Years Later and New Romance
by Dravas
Summary: James Darcy, son of Fitzwilliam, is a crude boy with father issues. Not only has his father dumped him at some stranger's manor, but there's a headstrong girl who is driving him mad& whom he can't seem to escape, but he isn't sure he wants to escape.
1. Fateful Meetings

His mother had been dead giving birth to him. She was a strong woman, but not strong enough to survive the birth. His father never said that he blamed the boy for his mother's death, but he could see that his father despised him. According to his aunts, he looked just like his mother, except for his eyes, which were his father's shade.

His father, one Fitzwilliam Darcy, sent his only son away to a very prestigious academy in France when he was very young. Many of his relatives, namely his aunts, were opposed to sending him away. They blamed the rash decision on grief. They called Darcy mad for casting away his only child, but Darcy ignored their protests. His son, James Darcy, was to spend years away from home, only allowed to visit during the summer months, though he would not do so because his father was always away on business during the summer months.

James's aunts would send him gifts and treats every so often along with a letter telling him how things are doing back in England. He loved his aunts, especially Jane an Georgiana. He was not particularly fond of Lydia, but he wrote to her anyway. He knew that she was the family's black sheep because of some scandal from before his parents were even married.

When James was young, he didn't comprehend why his father was so cold towards him. He could not grasp why his own father sent him away and refused to visit him. He did not understand why he didn't have a mother like every other boy he knew had.

Now a fine, nineteen year old man, James has grown to understand his family and their odd array of problems, with some help from his aunt Kitty of course and his Grandmother, who had recently moved into the home of his aunt Jane because her dear husband died. James was made aware of the trouble his mother and father had caused and endured before they fell in love. He learned about the dreaded Mr. Collins and the scoundrel, Mr. Wickham, who is still married to his aunt Lydia, and how they were both pursuing his mother, Elizabeth Bennet. He also learned that his mother was quite attracted to Mr. Wickham, which probably infuriated his father, who already despised the man for trying to elope with Georgiana. This helped James understand why his father held such a grievance against him. His father had suffered to win Elizabeth's heart and once they were happily married, it was all taken away by his birth. Even he began to hate himself.

.

Early July. France.

Young Darcy exited the large library without looking where he was going. He was in a bit of a hurry because under his coat was a naughty novel that he found hidden behind the reference books in the farthest corner of the library. He didn't expect anyone to be so close to the doorway, so he didn't see the young woman walking by the entrance. They collided with a force that sent the young lady to the floor and Darcy to the wall beside the doorway.

"I'm sorry. I didn't see you," the young lady apologized in French as she got to her feet and brushed off her pale blue gown. She smiled warmly at him.

Then she noticed the book that had fallen out of his pocket when the two had collided. She quickly picked it up before Darcy could stop her. She read the title in her head and she quickly covered her mouth to keep herself from laughing.

Darcy snatched the book from her grasp and quickly stowed it away in hi pocket. If he was caught with a such a book, he would surely be expelled. Darcy took a second to examine the girl who could easily end his academic career. She was about his age, perhaps a little younger. She had long frizzy auburn that was being kept in a loose bun by pins and ribbon. Her eyes were a typical hazel colour. Her face was heart-shaped and her cheeks were dotted with a few small freckles. She was attractive, but there was nothing about her that Darcy found even slightly impressive.

"Don't worry, I won't tell," she assured him, "and I am sorry. I was not looking where I was going."

He did not acknowledge the apology nor did he give one of his own. Instead he straightened up and walked away from the young lady without a second glance nor thought.

Darcy turned the next corner, knowing full well that what he had just done was rude and not very gentlemanly, but he found English girls to be quite savage and seemed to have only one thing on their mind or so the stories from his aunts had lead him to believe. They were wild and so did not deserve to be treated as ladies, despite their attempt to dress up like one. Usually he would not care if the lady glared daggers into his back as he walked away, but something about this young lady struck him as odd. He did not know what it was. He had mistreated much prettier girls than she without a single care. He shook off these feelings as pity for the ugly duckling.

Darcy kept walking, but that girl was still haunting the back of his mind. He turned another corner and almost hit a young man that he recognized as Samuel Bellefleur. Samuel moved out of Darcy's way. He would have kept walking if Samuel had not tapped on his shoulder.

"Darcy, have you seen a young woman with frizzy auburn hair?" he asked exasperatedly.

Darcy glared at him. "Library," he muttered venomously.

Samuel, who was a head taller than Darcy, glared down at him, but said nothing. He walked right by Darcy without another word.

Meanwhile, the young lady stared after him in utter amazement. She had never met such a rude young man in her life. She had apologized in French so to not insult or confuse him, and yet he ignored her. Her French was not that bad. She shook her head, in a furious mood after that encounter, and continued to stroll down the wooden hallway.

She had been part of a small party, but she had been distracted by a game that a group of boys had been playing and so was separated from her family. Instead of staying in the same place, as was recommended when one was lost, she decided to attempt to locate her family herself.

"Gwen!" a familiar voice called. She turned to see her cousin, the sandy-haired Samuel, ran up to her and wrapped his arms around her small frame. "I've been looking for you! We thought that someone had snatched you when we weren't looking!"

Gwen smiled. "Sorry," she said absently.

Samuel held her at arms length. "My dear cousin you always seem to be apologizing," he began. "Now let's return you to your mother and father."

Gwen nodded. "How do you keep yourself from getting lost in this place, cousin?" she giggled.

Samuel smiled at his cousin. "I've been walking these halls for years. It would be ridiculous if I didn't know my way by now."

Gwen laughed. She had almost completely forgotten about the rude young man she had just had the displeasure of meeting. Her head was full of questions about Paris and about the wonders of the city's rich history.

Neither of them were aware of the pair of blue eyes that were watching them with interest.

.

A few weeks later. England.

Darcy entered the drawing room and bowed before his father. "Good morning father," he greeted him in as cheerful a tone as he could manage without sounding like a fraud.

His father nodded absently in response. "We are going to visit a few business associates of mine. We leave tomorrow."

James Darcy frowned. "Sir, I thought that we might go fishing tomorrow," he said quietly.

His father did not even look at him. "Pack your things. I expect that you will be staying there for quite some time," he ordered. "Maybe you'll find a wife," he added coldly.

James nodded and bowed. "Yes sir."

.

Gwen grinned happily as she and her sister Evelyn skipped hand in hand to their shared bedroom. Though there were plenty of rooms in the house, the sisters demanded to share one. They had been inseparable since they could walk. Evelyn, though younger by a year, attracted quite a bit of attention from those of the male persuasion. She loved all the attention she received from them, though she was really a very well-mannered and respectable young lady.

Gwen also had her share of admirers, but she did not flirt nor appreciate their flattery. Gwen, though a very lovely and attractive young woman, was far more interested in the world beyond the borders of England. She wished to travel, to explore. It was impossible of course, as she was a woman and was condemned to marry, have children, and remain at home until she died. Gwen did not mind the prospect of children. In fact, she wanted to have children, but not before seeing the world.

Evelyn let go of Gwen's hand and fell back onto their bed with a sigh of relief. Evelyn was not for travel. She preferred balls and the life of a social butterfly, like their mother Josephine Crawford. Whenever anyone in the county so much as mentioned any sort of party, Josephine and Evelyn were the first to encourage it. Gwen liked parties as well, but in moderation.

"I'm so happy to be home!" Evelyn exclaimed.

Gwen lay down beside her sister. She smiled weakly. "I wish I could have seen more of Paris. There is no telling when I'll ever have the opportunity to visit it again," she told Evelyn, who turned onto her side and reached over to move a stray lock of hair from Gwen's face.

"I'm sure you will go back to Paris," she assured her. "Then you will visit the Orient and maybe Canada," she laughed.

Gwen laughed as she turned onto her back. "If I go will you come with me?" she asked.

Evelyn hesitated. "Gwen…" she began but was interrupted by the maid, Rose, entering the room.

"Mr. Hunt is at the door for you ma'am," Rose said to Gwen, who instantly sprang to her feet and rushed passed Rose.

Remy (short for Remus) Hunt was Gwen's best friend. They had known each other since infancy. He was the son of a lord and an Italian lady. He was very handsome with ebony hair, dark brown eyes, and tanned skin. Many believed that he would ask Gwen to marry him, though both friends knew that that was an impossibility. They were friends and nothing more.

Gwen raced down the grand staircase to meet Remy in the foyer. She hugged him tightly. "I have so much to tell you about Paris! It's beautiful, except for the smell, but even that isn't so bad once you see how breathtaking everything else is!" Gwen explained very quickly.

Remy grinned down at her. "I am very glad that you liked it. Paris is truly a beautiful city," he said. "Oh, and I have some interesting bit of news for you."

"Really what?" she asked.

"The nephew of the late Lady Catherine is coming with his son to stay at my parents' estate," Remy informed her, "and to honour their visit, my parents are holding a fantastic ball, which explains my unannounced visit."

Gwen stared at him. She knew Lady Catherine. They had met when Gwen was very young. She very much enjoyed her daughter Anne's company and she was still invited ever summer or so to stay at Rosings. But she had never met Mr. Darcy or his son, though Anne had told her quite a bit about the Darcy family.

"When?" was all Gwen could say. She was very excited. She had loved Lady Catherine and Lady Anne, so she expected to be equally fond of Darcy and his son.

"Two days until they arrive. The party will take place the following day."

Gwen smiled from ear to ear. She was speechless, but Evelyn, who had been eavesdropping, screamed in joy. "A ball in three days!" she exclaimed.

Mrs. Crawford came running into the room. "A ball? In only three days!" she cried. "Oh dear, but there is so much to do! Dresses to mend and ribbons to buy!" She turned to Evelyn. "We must move quickly! We must go to the Village at once!"

Gwen groaned. She had enough dresses and ribbon to last her a lifetime. She preferred to stay in the countryside, where there were not nearly enough people to disturb the peace. She preferred the smell of trees to the smell of sewage.

She turned to Remy. "Would you like to take a walk?" she asked.

He gave a small nod before opening the door for Gwen.

"Gwendolyn, don't you want new ribbon for the ball?" her mother asked.

"No mama. I have plenty," she answered politely as she walked out of the door. She was followed by Remy, who smirked upon seeing Mrs. Crawford's astonished face. Gwen was not trying to be impolite. The fact of the matter is that she had two dresses that she had never worn. One belonged to a dead friend of the family and the other was made for her by Lady Catherine before she died. Gwen had never found a reason to wear either of them, until now.

The two of them walked down the stone path that led to the woods. There was a narrow path that ran from their county to the next one. Remy and Gwen had spent quite a bit of their childhood playing among the tall trees.

"What do you think they are like?" Gwen asked.

Remy shrugged. "Like Lady Catherine, I presume. What was she like?"

"A grand lady with a large heart, once you saw passed her icy exterior. She very much cared about her family and the wellbeing. I miss her sometimes," she said. "That is why I'm so excited to meet Mr. Darcy and his son."

Remy chuckled. "Sometimes I don't understand your attachment to the old bag."

Gwen shot him a dangerous look. "She is the reason I have all that I have now. She is the reason I was even allowed to meet you. I owe everything to her."

.

Mrs. Crawford was moving faster than her husband or either of her children could keep up with. She was dressed in her long white flowing gown and her brown hair was tied up in a loose bun with some assorted fake pearls scattered here and there long before Gwen had even finished brushing Evelyn's long blonde hair.

Mr. Crawford grumbled as he pulled on his waistcoat, which seemed to have shrunk a little over the winter. He would have to be very careful not to burst the buttons. Once he was dressed, he called for the carriage and waited for his two daughters to come downstairs, as his wife was already waiting in the carriage.

Evelyn curled her long hair and pinned it up in a tail at the back of her head. Her hair was so long that it fell passed her shoulders even when tied up. She was wearing a cream-colored gown with a pale blue ribbon tied under her chest. The gown flowed down to the floor.

Gwen had her hair in a loose bun. There was little that she could do with her frizzy head of hair, but she managed to keep it under control. She managed to make it look very silky and elegant. Her dress was a very pale lavender with a tight bodice and then flowed to the floor. A golden ribbon was tied at the bodice and trailed behind her. The dress was made of a very light and soft material that Gwen could not name. She twirled in the mirror to watch the gown move with her. She had never worn it before, but she loved it. She knew that the dress had belonged to a friend of her mother who had died and so it held sentimental value.

Gwen and Evelyn raced down the staircase as quickly as they could. They did not want to miss a minute of the party. They stepped into the carriage with their parents and they were off.

The front of the Hunt manor was decorated with garlands of white and pink flowers. There were carriages everywhere with party guests stepping out of them. Gwen recognized quite a few of them, but there were some for whom she had never seen before. The Crawford daughters stepped out of the carriage first, followed by their father and then their mother. They followed the flow of guests that were filing into the Hunt manor.

The members of the Hunt family standing in the foyer, where they were greeting their guests. Remy smiled when he saw Gwen. He pointed to a tall dark-haired who was engaged in a conversation with Mrs. Lucinda Spencer and her husband. The gentleman's back was to Gwen, who hesitated because she noticed the young man who was standing beside Mr. and Mrs. Spencer. His name was Cole Spencer. He was a uninteresting, greasy-haired man with a more than disturbing infatuation with Gwen. She couldn't stand him and tried to avoid him as much as possible.

Remy appeared behind Gwen and placed hand on her shoulder. "He hasn't seen you yet, perhaps you could speak to the Darcys later," he suggested.

Gwen shook her head. "I can't run from him forever, Remy," she answered as she began to walk forward. Remy was at her side.

Lucinda saw Gwen first. She frowned before putting on a fake smile. "Oh, Gwendolyn, how nice to see you," she said.

Gwen returned the false smile. "Yes, how lovely to see you as well," she answered.

Remy cleared his throat to end the small tension that was building between them. "Gwen, this is Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy."

"Mr. Darcy, this is Miss Gwendolyn Crawford," Remy added to Mr. Darcy.

The tall dark-haired man turned slightly to face Gwen. He was handsome, though too aged to tempt Gwen. He did not smile at her, instead he stared at her without saying a word.

Gwen touched her cheek. "Do I have something on my face?" she asked.

Mr. Darcy shook his head. He blinked and said, "You look very familiar."

She smiled. "I spent quite a bit of time at Rosings when Lady Catherine was alive and I still visit Anne. Perhaps you saw me there."

Mr. Darcy nodded. "You are probably right."

Lucinda's face had grown red as Mr. Darcy stared at Gwen. Her husband, Richard, was a business associate of Mr. Darcy and she was insulted that he had chosen to stay with Mr. Hunt. The Spencer estate was far larger and much more extravagant.

Cole shyly glanced at Gwen. "Hello Gwendolyn," he murmured.

Gwen contained her repulsion. "Hello Cole," she replied.

"Oh, here comes your son, Mr. Darcy," Lucinda declared as she pointed to a crowd of people. "Oh, he is a handsome one."

Gwen turned to see young Mr. Darcy and was unpleasantly surprised to see the rude, dark-haired boy that she had met in France. Her jaw fell open slightly as he approached. His blue eyes grew wide upon noticing Gwen. He obviously remembered her.

Mr. Darcy placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Miss Gwendolyn Crawford, this is my son James Darcy."

Young Darcy bowed slightly. "Miss Crawford," he said.

Gwen curtsied. "Mr. Darcy," she said, trying hard to hide her distaste. They stared at each other for quite some time. Each was trying to hide their dislike of other from the other guests while trying to project that distaste onto the other.


	2. Appearances

Lucinda took this moment of silence to call her daughters over to her. Her eldest daughter, who was the same age as Gwen, was named Marion. She was a sweet girl, but she lived in the shadow of her cruel younger sister, Priscilla, who was hated by both Gwen and Remy. Gwen despised her because she wanted to runaway with her brother Olivier, who married a respectable girl not too long before the family left for Paris. Remy hated her because he was in love with Marion, but Priscilla treated her like a dog.

It wasn't very hard to see that Lucinda was planning on marrying one of her daughters to Darcy junior. She also planned on having her son Cole propose to Gwen, who was completely opposed to the idea. Of course, her opinion didn't really matter.

"Well I should go and find my parents," Gwen announced. "Good evening."

She curtsied and walked quickly away from the small party.

"Oh yes! My son Cole is very soon going to be engaged to Miss Crawford, as soon as he finds the proper time to ask her," Gwen heard Lucinda announce as she quickly moved through the crowd.

"Congratulations," Darcy senior stated.

My heart sank as the prospect of spending the rest of my life with Cole Spencer was completely unbearable. He was boring, greasy, and generally unpleasant. Gwen would rather spend life alone than with Cole. His brother Royce, on the other hand, was the epitome of the perfect gentleman. He was strong, handsome, and charming. He was not very intelligent, but at least he had charm. Unfortunately, Royce was to marry Evelyn. There lives had been decided for them long before they could even walk. It was pathetic, but true.

Remy did not follow her this time. He was asking Marion to dance. Gwen would not ask Remy to leave Marion, even for her. She had told Remy about the rude young man she had met in Paris, and he had agreed that he had been very rude. Remy assured her that if he ever met this brute, that he would fight him to preserve Gwen's honour. She giggled at the proclamation as Remy was not a violent person. He would simply exchange crude comments, at most.

Gwen sighed at her misfortune and continued to walk.

.

The night progressed. Evelyn danced with half of the young men in the room. Remy spent the night with Marion, and Gwen spent the evening evading Cole and Darcy.

She had lost sight of Darcy, but Cole was hot on her trail. He had seen her from across the room and had been trying to chase her down for the past half of an hour. She thought that he would give up, but he proved to be relentless. Gwen weaved her way through the crowd. She glanced over her shoulder to see that Cole was a few metres behind her.

Then, she hit something solid, but not solid enough to be a wall or a door. Gwen staggered back a little, but did not fall to the floor. She looked up to see the dreaded Darcy. His cold eyes glared at Gwen. If looks could kill, Gwen would six feet under.

She straightened and curtsied. "My apologizes," she said venomously.

"I know that English girls are known for their untamed desires, but if you wanted to touch me, all you needed to do was ask instead of throwing yourself at me," he told her coldly. "If this is how you behave your bed must be full, but I'm sure you could find time for me."

Gwen stared at him. She had never been so insulted in her entire life. It took every ounce of her self-control not to slap him. "My apologizes sir, but I would rather spend the night with a plagued rat," she retorted as calmly as she could. She did not wait for a reply, but she saw from the amazed look on his face that he was not used to be spoken to in such a manner, especially by a woman.

She wished that she could turn around and walk away from him, but she knew that Cole would be coming after her and she had no desire to dance with a man with two left feet. Her feet would hurt for days if she danced with him. That only added to the list of unattractive qualities that he possessed. Unfortunately, she did not have long to decide because Cole came up behind her.

"I've been running after you for a half an hour!" he exclaimed and amusement washed over Darcy's face as the colour drained from Gwen's cheeks. "May I have the next dance with you?" he asked.

"How very eloquent of you," Darcy commented bluntly. "I can see why she is so eager to come to me for comfort."

Cole, who is usually a spineless bookworm, casted a cold look upon Darcy. "Sir, I would advise you to apologize to the lady and to not speak to her in such a manner."

Gwen could not help but smile at Cole. It was the first time that he had ever shown any form of courage.

"Am I to be intimidated by you? I have seen twigs who are more frightening," he growled at Cole.

Gwen stepped between the two, placing a hand on each of their chests. "Stop acting like children," she ordered. She faced Cole. "I accept your invitation to dance."

Darcy leaned forward. "Perhaps we should continue our conversation later. Perhaps upstairs," he whispered into her ear.

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Mr. Darcy, the only male I allow in my bed is Winston, and you are not half the man he is," she answered as she walked away with Cole. She did not look back at Darcy. She really did not care what he thought or how he reacted to her comment. She would be all too happy to never lay eyes on him again.

"When you said Winston, did you mean your dog?" Cole asked as they walked away from Darcy.

The music had just begun and Cole was already stepping on her toes. It was a fairly simple dance, but he was not able to keep time. He apologized throughout most of the dance. Gwen shook her head in disappointment. She looked at the other dancers, who were moving perfectly. She sighed. If only Cole was a better dancer, and more attractive, and a better conversationalist then maybe she would be interested in him. Perhaps she would even consider marrying him, but as it stood, he was not.

It was a relief when the musicians stopped and the dancers clapped. As quickly as Gwen could move, she curtsied and left Cole. She did not get very far before Darcy found her. He grabbed a hold of her upper arm and whirled him around to face him.

"May I have the next dance?" he asked, though it sounded more like a demand.

She glared at him. "I'm sorry sir…" she began but her mother appeared behind her and interrupted by saying, "Of course she would love to dance with you, Mr. Darcy."

Gwen groaned, but could not disobey her mother in a room full of people Josephine was trying to impress. Gwen would never hear the end of it if she did not obey her mother

She allowed Darcy to lead her back to where the guests were dancing. The next dance was a waltz, to her dismay. The waltz required her to stay close to Darcy until the musicians stopped playing. She had hoped for a dance that would keep her in his presence for a minimal amount of time.

Darcy placed one hand on her waist and held her hand in the air with the other. He began to move to the rhythm of the music without stomping on Gwen's petite feet. If her partner was not so repulsive, Gwen may have enjoyed the dance.

"If you weren't so revolting I may actually enjoy this dance," she vocalized.

Darcy put on a fake grin. "I have never met someone who is so willing to insult me," he said after a few moments of tense silence.

"You offended me. You called me a whore and you did not expect me to retaliate?" she asked.

"Most decent ladies would not, but I suppose that you do not fall under that category," Darcy said coldly.

Gwen's eyes narrowed. "If I am not a lady, then you are not a gentleman," she retorted.

"Well..." he paused.

"Not very quick are you?" Gwen commented.

"Oh i bet your tongue is very quick, Miss Crawford," he retaliated, causing her to glare. "Oh, can i not retaliate when _you_ insult me? Well I'll make note of that for the future."

Gwen clenched her jaw. He was so infuriating. "I hope to have a future in which you do not make an appearance," she said. "I have no patience and no time for someone so arrogant!"

Darcy stared dumbfounded at her. He had never met a woman like her in his entire life. She was much less refined and far more intelligent than the other ladies he had met. Darcy found that oddly refreshing, though he still disliked her. He would bed her if her could, but nothing more. She was not the kind of woman that he wanted to marry. She was not nearly as beautiful as he expected his wife to be. Though Darcy did find that she looked more attractive then usually tonight.

"You believe that I'm arrogant?" Darcy asked.

Gwen smirked at him. "You are the most arrogant man I have ever met, which has helped me to realize that I do not care if I embarrass my mother because I cannot stand being in your presence any longer." She took a step back before storming to the front entrance, leaving Darcy humiliated on the dance floor.

She marched past her dumbfounded mother, who was turning as red as a beet. She marched out of the manor and into the gardens to hide and wait for Remy to find her. She knew it would take some time as he was entertaining Marion Spencer.

Gwen sat near a Mrs. Hunt's prize rosebush. She stopped the angry tears from leaking down her cheeks. She was disappointed and insulted. Gwen thought that Fitzwilliam was emotionless, not at all like Lady Catherine had described him. Neither was his son, who was a womanizing Lothario. The very thought of James Darcy caused her hand to clench into a tight little fist. She had never thrown a punch, but she had witnessed quite a few boxing matches with her brother, so she had an idea of what she was supposed to do.

Gwen shook off the feeling of disappointment and rage. She began to wonder what terrible punishment her mother had concocted for her. She had embarrassed herself and her mother in front of everyone in the county and some rich guests. Gwen expected the punishment to be something along the lines of marrying Cole Spencer. It would not be pleasant.

It took an hour before Remy stumbled into the gardens. He was drunk, Gwen could smell the alcohol rolling off of him. It was odd, however, that Remy had allowed himself drink so much. He was not one to overdo it with the alcohol. Gwen guessed that he had only drank so much because Priscilla had stolen Marion away from him while they were dancing.

"Gwendolyn…" he called drunkenly. "I know…here…you…" As incoherent as his words were, Gwen understood and emerged from the rosebush that she had been hiding behind.

"Yes, Remus," she muttered.

"Darcy is looking…" he stumbled forward, and Gwen moved quickly to catch him. She was not going to reach him, she knew it and yet she still tried to save him. In the process, she nearly fell to the ground herself.

Suddenly, James Darcy appeared behind Remy and wrapped his arm around his waist. He pulled Remy back into his proper, upright position. Remy looked up at him and mumbled something that even Darcy was not able to understand.

"You have had far too much punch," Darcy growled at him. "Perhaps if you were less of a drunk Miss Spencer would be tempted to return those pathe…"

Gwen immediately stepped in. "I beg your pardon, but what right do have to judge him! You are the sexist pig!" she exclaimed. She moved to take Remy from Darcy.

Darcy's eyes narrowed. "Madame, I am an honest man. I call people how they present themselves to me." He turned to Remy. "Your friend is madly in love with Miss Spencer, but is unable to act on his feelings because he cannot bypass her sister. In other words, he is weak and pathetic."

"You son of…" Gwen began and would have continued if he was not related to the woman who saved her.

"You, on the other hand, are a rare breed of Englishwoman. One who is not desperate to gain a husband. I believe that there is a word for that," he paused to think. "Oh yes, a shrew."

Gwen clenched her teeth together. She could only imagine slapping him across the face for her etiquette did not permit her to lay a hand on him, unless he touched her first. He was free game after that.

"I believe I have made out your character, sir," she spat back. "You had some bad experience with a woman and so you have decided to be prejudice against the rest of the sex. You think you can use us like play things!"

"Perhaps your mother did not love you enough," she added.

Darcy had never hit a well-bred woman in his life. He had raised a hand against a few of the whores of Madame Papillon's brothel in Paris, but he had taken a vow to never manhandle a woman of rank, though Gwen's rank was rather low. Darcy had didn't even realize that he had moved until he noticed that Gwen was lying on top of the rosebush she had been sitting by. Her lip was bleeding, as were her arms from the thorns that were digging into her flesh. Her eyes resembled those of an injured animal, wild and sad. It was then that he realized that he had unconsciously made a fist. He had knocked her into the rosebush, where she lay glaring at him.

Remy lay unconscious on the cool grass. He was blissfully unaware of what was going happening around him.

Darcy stared at Gwen, who glared back. The wave of rage that had washed over him had vanished, and now he realized exactly what he had done. He unclenched his fist and stared at his hands. "I…I…" he stuttered. Horror consumed his eyes as he raised his eyes to her. Gentlemen were not supposed mistreat ladies. He bowed. "My apologizes," he said before he quickly walked away from the scene without looking back. He didn't check to see if she was in need of assistance, as a gentleman should. He wanted to get as far away from her as he could, before he did something else that he would regret.

Gwen was in a state of utter shock. She did not know what she said that offended him so, but she was not sorry about it, though her jaw was throbbing in pain. He had not held back, of that she was sure.


	3. Long Summer to Come

Gwen removed a handkerchief from Remy's breast pocket to wipe the blood away from her lips and forearms. As drunk as most of the guests were, they would notice the blood and then hell would be raised. As much as she wanted to get her revenge on Darcy, the desire to never thinking about him again was even stronger. Humiliation would only cause his father to step in and take action. That being said, Gwen would probably be banned from visiting Rosings and she could not let that happen.

Gwen pulled Remy off of the ground. She placed one of his arms around her neck and one of her around his torso. She groaned as he was far heavier than he looked, but she couldn't in good conscience to leave him in the garden so she pressed on.

No one noticed Gwen as she carried Remy back into the house and set him down on one of the couches. There were hardly any people around, as they were all still gathered around the punch bowl. They also did not notice Gwen move through the crowd to her father and whisper something into his ear.

"Please! May we go home?" she begged.

Her father looked at her with a raised brow. "Dear Lord, Gwendolyn! What happened to you? You're bleeding," he observed. He lifted one of her arms and examined the small cuts that covered it.

Gwen hadn't noticed that her right arm had started bleeding again. She pressed the handkerchief to her wounds to stop the blood from following.

"I fell into a rosebush," she lied.

Her father stared at her. "That's unlike you. You were always very graceful," he stated.

Gwen quickly changed the subject before she gave away any real information. "May we leave. I don not want to stay here any longer."

"After your performance earlier in the evening, I can see why," her father responded. "If you can pull your mother away from Lucinda, then we will leave."

"But that's nearly impossible!" she muttered.

Her father gave her a sympathetic smile. "You embarrassed your mother, my dear child. This is your punishment," he explained.

Gwen groaned. Trying to pry her mother from Lucinda Spencer was like trying to pry a piece of steak away from a hungry dog. It was not impossible, but very dangerous and difficult. She spotted the duo watching the dancers. Gwen walked over to the duo, which were cackling about something that she did not overly care about.

Mrs. Spencer caught sight of Gwen first. "Ah, the naughty girl has returned. We were just talking about you," she said rather bluntly.

Josephine looked drunkenly at her daughter. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone!" she exclaimed. "So I'm sending you to the Spencers for the rest of the summer while the rest of the family goes to visit your brother Olivier."

Gwen's eyes grew wide. "But that isn't fair!" she exclaimed.

"Yes it is! Marion and Priscilla do as they are told! You will learn to behave from them!" he mother stated.

"But mama, I've been wanting to visit Olivier for months! It's not fair to send me away when all I did was walk away from what could have turned into a heated argument in the middle of a ballroom filled with listening ears and gossiping mouths," Gwen exclaimed as she glanced at Lucinda, the queen of gossip herself. She has spread more rumours in her lifetime than anyone else in all of the empire.

"Yes I'm sure that such a coolheaded young lady such as yourself would start an argument with the refined Mr. Darcy," Lucinda responded.

Gwen knew that she was attacking her, but she also knew that she could not retaliate, especially with her mother right beside her. Lucinda was using Josephine as a human shield.

So Gwen smiled at her. "Mother, father would like to leave. He is tired and asks that I fetch you," she lied.

Her mother grumbled about having too much fun. She was far beyond the point of drunk, but that was exactly what Lucinda wanted. Josephine was far more compliant when her senses were numbed. That was how she convinced Gwen's mother to force Gwen into stay with the Spencers while the rest of the family goes abroad, something she knew that Gwen enjoyed. In Gwen's melancholy state, she would turn to the only Spencer she disliked the least, Cole (it would be Marion if she was not attached to Priscilla). That would give him the opportunity to propose and they would be married. It was a clever plan on Lucinda's part, but Gwen was a little quicker than Lucinda believed.

Gwen grabbed her mother by her arm. "Come along, mother," she said aggressively. She gave a quick nod to Mrs. Spencer before dragging her mother away from the conniving woman. Gwen clenched her jaw. That woman was going to drive Gwen to an early grave if Lucinda continued her scheming. If Lucinda kept influencing Mrs. Crawford, Gwen's fate was sealed and she would be Mrs. Cole Spencer in a year's time.

The very thought made her cringe.

"But I…" her mother began.

"Mama, I feel ill. Father wants to leave," Gwen hissed. "Please just come with me."

If Josephine had not been drunk, she would not have been detached from Lucinda so easily, even though she was a bad influence on Gwen's mother. It was irritating to watch her mother being taken advantage of in such a way, especially when in directly affected Gwen.

Gwen left her mother with her husband and set off to find her sister, who was no doubt flirting with some young man. She walked from room to room searching for Evelyn. Gwen only narrowly missed another encounter with James Darcy, who looked positively miserable in the parlour where he had been cornered by Priscilla and Marion. Gwen quickly moved through the room once she realized that her sister was not among its occupants.

Darcy looked up from the beautiful, but money hungry faces of the Spencer daughters, to see the stubborn Gwen Crawford enter the parlour. He noticed the cuts on her arms from when he had attacked her. They were no longer bleeding. She scanned the room quickly. Darcy quickly looked away from her and tried to pay attention to the mindless dribble that passing from the lips of the Spencer daughters. He glanced up again to see that she had disappeared.

Remorse was not something he was used to feeling. She had provoked him and he had acted. It seemed so just at the time, but once he calmed down, he realized how unjustified his actions really were. God how could he be so stupid. If she told his father, James would never see the light of day again. Though, he rather doubted that she would breath a word of their encounter to anyone other than Remy Hunt, who would not be able to tell anyone else after tomorrow evening.

The Hunt family, though they were supposed to entertain Mr. Darcy and his son, were called away due to a death in the family. Because Mr. Darcy had no intention of having his son return to Pemberley with him, he asked the Mr. Spencer to care for him until school resumed. Mr. Spencer happily agreed to host his son, which explained why Marion and Priscilla decided to attach themselves to him. Other than the bizarre, obsessive children and the conniving wife, the Spencer house was a pleasant place. It was far larger than the Hunt estate and was far more elegant. However, the Hunts were better company.

Darcy did not want to apologize. He didn't really need to apologize because the day after tomorrow Gwen and her entire family were going to visit her brother and his wife. They would not be back for at least a month. He was sure that their little tiff would be forgotten by then, and it was doubtful that they would ever meet again.

Evelyn was dancing with some fellow that Gwen did not recognize. Gwen moved into her sister's line of sight and waved her over. Evelyn nodded and excused herself from the dance. She hurried over to her sister.

"Gwen! Where have you been?" she demanded. "Mama has been looking for you!"

"We're leaving. Come with me," Gwen ignored her sister's attempts to protest by grabbing onto her wrist and pulling her through the crowd.

She found her father standing by the carriage, which had been brought to the front of the manor. Her mother was already half asleep in the seat. Gwen handed Evelyn over to her father before turning and walking back towards the house.

"Where are you going?" her father asked.

"I have to say goodbye to Remy," Gwen stated before disappearing into the house.

Remy was exactly where she had left him. He was still drunk and half asleep. Gwen shook his arm sternly. "I will see you tomorrow afternoon, Remy," she said very softly. She was about to leave when Remy took a hold of her arm and pulled her close to him.

"Won't be...tomorrow," he said drunkenly. "My grandmother sick...dying... going to see her. Probably...funeral."

Gwen stared at him. "But how am i going to survive the summer if you are away?" she demanded. "I am being forced to stay with the Spencers!"

Remy frowned. "He's...there too," he muttered.

"Who is?" she asked.

"Darcy going home," Remy said, "but Mr. Spencer offered...Darcy didn't mind..."

"What did Mr. Spencer offer?"Gwen could feel a sense of fear overtaking her.

"Darcy junior lodging with Spencer."

Her eyes had never grown so wide in her life. Her face had never grown so pale. She had never been so surprised and enraged in her life. It was bad enough that she had to spend her summer with the Spencer family, which meant missing an opportunity to visit her brother, but now she and her newly formed enemy was to share the same house. Catastrophe seems like too much of an understatement to describe what Gwen assumed would happen.


	4. And So It Begins

A grey storm cloud hung over the Crawford manor. It was dark and menacing and perfectly reflected Gwen's mood. Her mother, who had the worst headache imaginable, avoided her daughters icy gaze. She regretted agreeing to Lucinda's ridiculous matrimonial plan, but she had already given her word and could not go back on it now, no matter how much pain it caused her.

Feeling guilty for her actions while indisposed, Josephine fled for sanctuary in her husband's study. She paced nervously. "Should I lie to save my daughter?" she asked her husband, who was reading in his armchair. "Should I say that Gwen is ill and cancel the whole ordeal?" she asked. "I'm a horrible mother!"

With a sigh, Mr. Crawford lowered his book. "My dear you are very far from a horrible mother," he assured him. "That Lucinda is a horrible mother for putting her daughters on display in such an indecent way."

"Did you know that as soon as they heard that James Darcy was staying with them, they pounced the poor lad," he added before returning to his book.

Josephine froze. "James Darcy is staying with Spencer and his family? I thought he was to stay with Mr. and Mrs. Hunt?" she said.

Her husband shook his head. "Mrs. Hunt's mother is dying, so the family is going to see her. They expect that they will be attending a funeral or else only Mrs. Hunt would be going," he explained.

Josephine clapped her hands in joy. "This is an opportunity for Gwen! She can apologize to James Darcy. Then perhaps they could fall n love. Gwen is quite a lovely girl and she is so very intelligent."

Mr. Crawford chuckled. "And headstrong. Do you really expect our Gwen to apologize to a man who offended her," he asked.

"How do you know that he offended her?" she asked quickly.

He shrugged. "Gwen is not one to despise someone without being provoked. She very obviously dislikes the lad, so I assume that he vexed her in some way," he explained.

Josephine nodded in comprehension. "My dear husband, you have yet to answer my earlier question!" she exclaimed.

He sighed again. "Darling, I would lie for her in a heartbeat," he answered, "but I care very little about the views of such people as Lucinda Spencer."

Josephine gnawed on her nails. "She has so much charisma and class, it is hard not to do as she wishes," she began, "and Cole is a lovely young man who would be good for Gwen. It will secure her future. The money Lady Catherine left her is quite a sum, but not to last her forever and I want her children to be well off."

Her husband nodded. "I know that you mean well my dear, but sometimes I think that you may have taken it too far this time."

"I'm a horrible mother to Gwen! Lady Catherine would not approve," she said nervously.

Mr. Crawford froze for a moment. "Catherine would have preferred Gwen to marry Olivier. She always hated Lucinda, especially after discovering that it was she who pushed Anne into the pond," he answered.

Josephine nodded in agreement.

"And you must remember, my dear, that Lady Catherine may have left her in our care, but we can only steer Gwen in the right direction, we cannot force her to marry," and with that dismissing comment he lifted his book in front of his face and continued to read.

"She may not be ours by blood, but we raised her! We love her!" Mrs. Crawford exclaimed.

Josephine left the room and hurried up the stairs to search for Gwen, who had been listening under the window. Gwen straightened up and knocked on the glass. Her father came to open the window. He smiled at her.

"Have you decided what you are going to do, now that you've heard your mother's explanation?" he asked.

Gwen stared at him. Her mouth gaping. "You knew that I was there?" she demanded. She thought for sure that she a far better sleuth than that.

Mr. Crawford smiled at her. "After caring for you for sixteen years I have learned most of you tricks, my dear," he responded. "And you are avoiding my question."

Gwen smiled weakly. "Mother wants me to have a prosperous future. I know she cares, but I refuse to marry Cole Spencer," she said. She stared at her feet. She felt guilty.

"But I will stay with the Spencer family while you, mother, and Evelyn visit Olivier. I will try to warm up to Cole and perhaps mend fences with Darcy."

Mr. Crawford chuckled. "Do not worry too much about Darcy. He will be so preoccupied with trying to avoid Priscilla and Marion that you will hardly see him," he announced.

Gwen smiled at him once again. She nodded, but her heart sank down to her feet. It was hard enough living in the same county as the Spencers, she could only imagine what living in the same home would be like. Gwen suppressed a shiver that was making its way up her spinal cord. She knew that she was just going to have to tough it out. Her mind also drifted to thoughts of Olivier and what her mother had said about their marriage. She knew that she was adopted and that she and Olivier were not related by blood, but the thought of marrying him was completely out of the question. She was his sister and that was what she wanted to be.

She went to her room and began to throw a few pieces of clothing and a few of her books into the trunk that sat at the foot of the bed she shared with Evelyn. Her sister watched her pack with sympathetic eyes.

"I am sorry, Gwen," she said quietly. "I'll write every day."

Gwen knew that she wouldn't write every day. She would be lucky if she received a letter a week. One a day was out of the question, but Gwen smiled and nodded.

Once she had packed enough clothing to last her the next two months, Gwen sat down to write a letter of apology to Olivier. In the letter she stated her reasons for not being able to visit him, her current predicament, and her sincere wish that he would not tell their mother about this letter. After she signed it with love, she gave it to Evelyn, who was sure to keep it from their mother.

Around noon, Mr. Crawford brought the carriage around the house. He helped Gwen load up her trunk and then helped her into the carriage. She held an emotionless face as she waved goodbye to her sister and her mother, who looked remorseful. Gwen smiled weakly at her mother in a feeble attempt to reassure her that she was doing this of her own free will. Her mother smiled back. Gwen's face returned to stone as the carriage began to move down the road towards the Spencer manor.

Cole and his parents were waiting for her in the sitting room. They had not bothered to greet her at the door. Gwen had excepted such behaviour, so she did not let it get to her. She walked into the sitting room with a polite smile on her pale lips and her head held high. Marion, Priscilla, and Royce were not present, but Gwen did not even notice because all she could think of was how much she wanted to leave.

"How very nice to see you again," Mr. Spencer said as he bowed. He smiled warmly at her.

Gwen nodded. "It is good to see you as well," she responded.

Lucinda smiled coyly. "I'm very sorry that Marion and Priscilla could not be here, but they had more important matters to deal with," she said.

Gwen bit her tongue, simply nodding in response to Lucinda's obvious insult. She grinned at the lady of the house. Her eyes glaring daggers into her forehead.

Cole, who had been waiting in anticipation for his chance to greet his future bride, was grinning like a buffoon. He wanted to consume her small body in a warm, loving hug, but he knew it was inappropriate. He wanted so much to kiss her, but he restrained himself, believing that the more he waited, the sweeter it would be once they were married.

"Hello Mr. Spencer," Gwen said with a curtsy.

Cole inhaled sharply. "Miss Crawford," he said as he bowed. He was so nervous that he did not realize how close Gwen was and their heads to collided.

Gwen rubbed her head gently. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Cole nodded. "I am so vey sorry," he apologized.

A fit of powerful laughter erupted between Gwen and Cole as they rubbed their heads and apologized to each other. The moment was comical and the tension in the room had lifted, until someone clapped. The clap was not a joyful type of clap, but a condescending type of clap that turned the atmosphere from light to dark.

Darcy came down the grand staircase and was about to go into the sitting room when he saw a flash of frizzy hair. He stopped to watch the bumbling Cole knock heads with the curtsying Miss Crawford. He couldn't believe that she was here, in the same house as he. He looked at her arms, which she had skilfully covered with a long-sleeved gown. He still felt a little guilty about injuring her, but he would never admit it. Darcy watched as Gwen and Cole laughed about the whole thing. He didn't know why, but he was suddenly furious. Without a second thought he stepped in.

He stepped into the room. "How adorable," he hissed. His cold eyes were on the young Miss Crawford.

They all looked up to see him standing in the doorway. Gwen glared at him. She had been hoping to avoid seeing him, at least until dinner.

"Cole!" his mother raged, suddenly furious about what they had been giggling about only a few seconds before. "Stop being such a clumsy twit!"

Gwen gave Cole a sympathetic look, which only made Darcy snicker. She shot him a threatening glare.

Darcy, feeling like tempted the rage of this little spitfire, smirked. "Perhaps to avoid any further collisions, I should show Miss Crawford the grounds," he offered without taking his eyes off of Gwen. Her horrified reaction made him smile. She hated him, and he liked it.

Lucinda giggled like a twit. "Excellent idea, Mr. Darcy," she said. She took Cole by the arm and squeezed it tightly. She glared at her clumsy son.

Darcy extended his hand to Gwen, who ignored it and walked past him. He followed closely behind her. "Arrogant bastard," she muttered under her breath. She knew that she would have to walk with him because if she did not, Lucinda would tell her mother and all hell would break loose. But that did not mean that she had to touch him.

"Oh come now, Miss Crawford," he said as he took her hand and placed it on his forearm. "I'm not so terrible. You may actually learn to like me if you gave me a chance."

As he had expected, Gwen tore her hand away. "I gave you plenty of chances, but each time you made a complete ass of yourself," she retorted. "Forgive me if I am not one to allow myself to be made fun of."

He watched as she quickened her pace. Se was fuming, which only made him grin. He liked this game, more than any other game he had ever played.


	5. Sparks Fly

Gwen grumbled to herself as she tried to walk gracefully and quickly down the large stone staircase that led out to the extensive gardens. She knew that Darcy was only a step or so behind her, but she tried to ignore his very presence. If she were lucky, she would see as little of him during her visit. However, luck was not usually on her side or else she would not be in this predicament to begin with.

Darcy smirked as he matched her pace. "My dear Miss Crawford," he laughed. "Are you put off by me?"

Gwen faltered for only a second, but did not reply to Darcy's question. This only made him chuckle.

"Oh how very cold you are, my dear," he said. "You will make a lovely old spinster."

Gwen clenched her jaw. Her thoughts moved from one mode of torture to another. She also pondered upon escape routes, though it was quite a long walk to her home and she was not fond of walking through marshes and forests, especially alone in the dark.

Darcy moved quickly so that he was a few steps ahead of her. He glanced back to see that Gwen was looking at her feet and not at him. His eyes narrowed. She was ignoring him. He wouldn't have that, so he reached out his hand and gave her a little nudge in the shoulder.

Her hazel eyes met his in a snap. He noticed that her irises were more of a combination of light greens and gold flecks then a mixture of browns and greens. "Do not ignore me, Miss Crawford," he warned. "It's very rude. And I don't think that you would like me to tell your mother of your insolence, do you?"

Her eyes narrowed. She ground her teeth together. He could see how much she wanted to call him names and physically harm him, but her etiquette forbad her from doing so. She forced a smile. "That was quite uncalled for, Mr. Darcy," she said through her teeth.

This was not the response that Darcy was hoping for, so he nudged her again, but this time he ran a few strides ahead of Gwen, who looked up. She glared at him before gathering her skirt and racing after him, matching his pace. Darcy kept running, wanting Gwen to chase him. He was used to being chased by women, but not for nearly the same reason as Gwen. She chased him because her pride demanded it; the other chased him because their lust and at times income depended on it.

"Come on! Come on! I see you've had one too many lemon tarts, Miss Crawford!" he mocked as he ran far ahead of her. He knew that she was a very lean woman and it was her dress that was keeping her from catching up with him. He never understood why women wore such large dresses.

Gwen's pale face was pink with from running. She was catching up with Darcy, to his surprise. She refused to let him win. Her pride depended on it. Perhaps it was her pride that blinded her from seeing the twig that lay in the grass, because the next thing she knew, she was falling to the ground.

She landed on the soft grass. Her face was as red as a cherry from embarrassment. She wasn't hurt, so she knew that Darcy would never let her forget her two left feet. She groaned.

Darcy saw her fall. His heart jumped when she hit the ground. His first thought was on her safety. He was worried that her face may be bruised or scratched. But almost immediately, he began to laugh at her plight. He immediately felt a sense of relief.

Gwen glared up at him. Her eyes revealed her anger. "Bastard," she hissed under her breath.

"Darcy!" a man yelled.

The duo looked up to see the handsome and blond Royce walking across the lawn. His expression was stern. He stopped a little away from Gwen. "Didn't your father teach you any manners?" he demanded as he took Gwen's arm and helped her to her feet. She smiled bashfully at him.

Darcy's eyes narrowed as Gwen fluttered her long black lashes at Royce as she thanked him. He ground his teeth as rage swelled in his chest. Royce was probably his only competition in the area. Royce was the only man in the county whose looks and manners could possibly rival his own. He, with his thick blond locks, tall stature, and his chivalrous attitude, could have almost any woman he wanted, which included the only girl that lay just out of Darcy's reach: the ever elusive Gwendolyn Crawford.

"He did, but you must admit that Miss Crawford's little tumble is quite comical," Darcy stated, flashing Gwen with a smirk.

"Not at all. I don't see how on earth a potentially injured young lady is funny," Royce replied. His tone was firm, if not cruel. He held Gwen close to him. "In fact, your mocking of Gwendolyn is not funny either. I believe that you should apologize to her."

Darcy frowned. They were on a first name basis and for some reason this annoyed him. "Aren't you chasing after the wrong Crawford girl?" he demanded.

Gwen's eyes grew wide at the comment and her jaw dropped a little. Even Darcy knew that it was petty, but he could not take it back. His pride forbad him from doing so. Royce remained stone faced. "I will not take offense to that, Mr. Darcy," he replied. "I am merely being a gentleman, but I do not suppose that it is something that you are familiar with."

With that, Royce led Gwen back to the house. She glanced back at Darcy. A contented smirk was on her pale pink lips. She had won this round.

Royce led Gwen back to the house. She so hoped that he would stay with her. She wanted so much for him to love her as much as she loved him. He was the perfect gentleman. He was perfect for her, but he was meant for her sister. Her sister was the lucky one. Royce stopped before the grand staircase.

"Oh yes, are you alright?" he asked, but his tone was more polite then truly concerned.

Gwen's heart sank a little bit as she nodded. If he had really cared for her, he would not have waited so long to ask her that.

Royce nodded with a small smile. "Good," he said before turning and walking away from her. He was out of sight all too quickly.

Slowly, Gwen walked back up the staircase. She asked one of the maids where her room was and she pointed it out for her. Gwen thanked her, but the girl quickly walked away from her. Gwen walked to her room and opened the door. As she had expected, her trunk lay at the foot of the bed. She quickly changed out of the rather large dress her mother had asked her to wear and into a thinner, white and blue summer gown. She washed her face and arms in a small basin of water that the maid had left her. She looked at herself in the small looking glass.

She never thought herself to be very beautiful, but she wasn't unpleasant to look at. Her hair was a little wild, but elegant, and her eyes were ever-changing so they were never boring to gaze into. Her skin was pale, but so was the skin of most people in the country. She had very few freckles on her cheeks, which were heart-shaped. No, she was not unpleasant to look at. She wondered why she could not attract the attention of someone more agreeable than Mr. Cole Spencer. Perhaps like that of his brother Royce. She sighed as she laid the mirror down onto the bed. She opened the door only to find none other than Cole standing right outside of it.

His eyes grew wide at the sight of her. "Hello, Gwen," he said quietly as he looked at his feet.

"Cole, what a pleasant surprise," she lied, but his eyes lit up like a child receiving a pony for Christmas.

"Would you like me to escort you to lunch?" he asked as he held out his arm, already presuming that the answer would be a positive one.

Gwen concealed her annoyance with a smile. She took his arm and they began to walk down the long hallway. They had just reached the staircase when Darcy appeared with a angry looking Lucinda by his side.

"You ungrateful child!" she snapped at Gwen. She yanked her away from Cole. "You dare to gang up on poor Mr. Darcy without just cause! You are the most unruly girl I have ever had the displeasure to house! From this moment on you will no longer spend your time ideally wandering about, but working! Every morning I expect you to go out into tend to the animals without any help. If you want to eat, you will have to work for it."

At that moment, Gwen saw red. "I will do no such thing! I did nothing wrong!" she snapped. "You are not my mother!"

Lucinda slapped her across the face, leaving a red mark. "Insolent child!" she hissed.

"Mother!" Cole exclaimed. Even Darcy stared in shock. He had not expected Lucinda to hit the girl.

"Mind your _place_, Gwendolyn," Lucinda hissed, causing Gwen's eyes to grow wide and her jaw to clench. "Your mother left you here so I would teach you to be a lady because you are nothing but a weed."

Gwen remained silent. Her hands curled into tight fists, but she kept them hidden behind her gown. The air was tense, almost making her sick. She wanted nothing more then to pounce on top of Lucinda and punch her until her pretty face resembled that of Quasimodo.

"You will go without dinner today and breakfast tomorrow," Lucinda said coolly. "You could do without a meal or two."

She turned to Darcy. "Please forgive this brat of a girl. She was not raised as well as you or I," she said with a sickeningly sweet smile. She glared at Gwen. "Go back to your room," she barked before walking ever so gracefully down the grand staircase without so much as a glance back at them.

Darcy watched her leave and then turned his attention to Gwen, who was still fuming. He watched her as she pushed Cole away. She did not want his pity nor his attempts to comfort her. She wanted nothing from him. Her face was still red from the slap, and he imagined that it stung quite a bit. An apology seemed to be in order, but he refused to give it. He had never meant for his lie to harm Gwen, he simply wanted to punish her for making him feel like a fool.

She glared at him, but said nothing. Gwen turned her back to him and returned quickly to her room, leaving Darcy with a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The next morning, Gwen was up very early to begin her punishment. She was only happy that she had packed some of her play clothes, which were already somewhat tarnished from years of playing in gardens and trees with Remy and Evelyn. It would not mind another streak of dirt. Gwen could not help but feel a little like Cinderella, though Lucinda was not her step-mother and her daughters were far more beautiful than Gwen. She detested them as much as Cinderella detested her keepers. The only kicker was that there was no Prince Charming to save her. There was only a Frog Prince.

She walked across the lawn until she reached the stables. The Spencers owned five horses, but they very rarely went riding so Gwen wondered why they needed so many. She walked to the large bag of oats and filled her apron with handfuls of oats. She walked over to one of the stalls and filled the first horse's trough with the grain. She walked back to the sack, filled her apron, and filled the next trough. She walked back and forth until each was fed. She knew she had to groom them before she could return to her room. She also had to feed the chicken, collect the eggs, and then help to prepare breakfast. It was going to be a long morning.

Darcy watched as she brushed the unruly manes' of the Spencer horses. Gwen hummed to herself as she carefully moved around each horse. She made sure that she was at a distance far enough from the horse's back legs so that they could not kick her. He felt a pang of guilt as he watched her scatter chicken feed on the ground to attract the chickens as she stole their eggs for Spencers' breakfast. The chicken squawked at her as she moved out of the pen. She hissed and made faces at them as she shut the gate behind her.

Darcy followed her to the backdoor, where she met up with the cook, a chubby young woman with a red face. She handed over the eggs with a warm smile and then entered the steaming hot kitchen. He glanced through the window to see her pounding away at a pushing down on a bit of risen dough. She pulled it apart and placed it into a bread pan to be cooked.

Gwen pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, smearing flour across her forehead. She didn't seem to notice until the cook pointed it out, laughing. Gwen joined in on the laughter as she wiped away the flour. Her eyes twinkled as she laughed.

He turned away from the window. There was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt almost nauseous. He began to walk back to the front of the house, wondering if a brisk morning walk would do him some good. Darcy wrote off the feeling as a mixture of the odd sense of guilt he felt for getting Gwen into trouble and of distaste for the girl.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy!" Priscilla called from the front door. She was dressed in a very elegant dusty pink summer gown. She smiled at him. "What are you doing up this early? Breakfast will not be served for another two hours," she informed him.

He nodded. "I was feeling a little ill, so I decided to take a walk. Would you join me, Miss Spencer?" he asked politely.

She eyes lit up as she gracefully walked over to him and hooped her arm around his. She was ecstatic, of course. Her mother wanted her to get close to Darcy in the hopes that they would be married and then she would have Pemberley. It was grand and she wanted it all for herself.

They moved slowly to the back of the house so that they could walk among the blooming flowers. Priscilla chatted away about their next ball and how she would be the envy of the party. She droned on about her gown and how much of a prize she was. Darcy was hardly listening. He knew her kind and he cared very little for them. Gold diggers.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Gwen walking across the lawn. She was moving very quickly, but he could see that the front of her gown was covered with flour and her auburn hair was no longer tied. It too was sprinkled with flour.

Priscilla noticed Darcy's distant look and followed his gaze. She immediately began to cackle, starling Gwen, who turned to look at them.

"Dearest me, don't we look the part of the pauper," Priscilla mocked. "My mother told me that you were being punished for being cruel to dear Mr. Darcy. How could you ever harm such a wonderful man?"

Gwen said nothing. She simply stared at them with clenched fists.

"Run along, before I have you scrubbing the floors," Priscilla laughed. Darcy began to laugh as well, but it felt like acid in his mouth. He stopped short when Gwen turned and stormed away. He watched her enter the house.

Priscilla tugged on his arm, wanting him to proceed. He obeyed without looking back at the grand house.


	6. Pleasantries and Progressions

Priscilla began to go on about the ball that she was planning for her spineless brother, Cole's birthday. She wanted to make sure that everything was perfect and that she was the most beautiful woman there. Though she seemed ever so confident in her beauty, she couldn't help but worry about her sister Marion's growing appeal and the strong and elegant Gwen Crawford. Marion had the half-breed Remy and she loved him as much as he loved her. Gwen, on the other hand, had no interest in Cole and was therefore rather appealing to other men. Priscilla knew that there were many men in the county who were quite taken by her. She had been such a plain child that it was a wonder she turned out so beautiful. Priscilla would never admit that she was threatened by Gwen.

Noticing that Darcy did not seem very interested in the party, most men weren't, she changed the subject to keep his interest. "I have recently read a novel," she began.

Darcy did not let on that he found this fact both unbelievable and hysterical. He found it rather funny that she found the time to read between moving from the arm of one rich man to another.

"It was about a disfigured man hiding in the great cathedral in Paris who falls in love with a beautiful gypsy woman," she continued. She thought herself quite intelligent as the story was written in French and it had not been light reading.

Darcy nodded absently. His thoughts turned to the young Miss Crawford and her current predicament. He was not used to the feeling of guilt, but recently, since meeting Gwen, he had felt it very often. He was usually very level headed, but he had been a little impulse since meeting Gwen, but he couldn't understand why. She was no different then the other women he had met. Why did he act so odd when he was around her?

Darcy didn't like the idea of Gwen playing servant to Lucinda, whom he had grown to comprehend and dislike because his acquired comprehension of her. She was cold and cared for very few people. She wanted to get close to him for his money and nothing else. His name and money were all she wanted from him. Gwen did not deserve to be a slave to that retched woman. No one did.

His thoughts immediately ran wild with images of Gwen being killed or hurt by the animals she cared for and the chores she was forced to complete. He saw angry chickens pecking her eyes out for stealing their eggs. He saw her being kicked by a horse or trampled by one as she groomed it. Darcy saw her sleeve catch fire as she baked the bread, the flames soon consumed the girl. These visions caused Darcy to cringe a little.

Priscilla smiled stupidly at him. "Oh don't worry! She doesn't love the monster back! how could she? Even the stupidest, godless gypsies know what beauty is," she said, believing that he had cringed at some part of her story.

He did not reply. He simply stared at her clueless expression. He observed her features. She was beautiful. Her strawberry blonde locks fell to the middle of her back, but they were usually tied up in elegant and proper buns and twists. Her eyes were a rare shade of grey that caused him to pause and stare into them. Her cheeks were touched with blush and her full lips were painted to make them even more luscious.

However, her nose was a little too long and pointed. Gwen's nose was small and fit her face perfectly. Priscilla wore too much make up for his taste. Gwen wore very little, she relied on her natural beauty. Priscilla's face was far too thin and her breasts were very small. She was too skinny. Gwen also had a lean body, but hers looked far healthier then Priscilla's, and her chest was not nearly as flat. Priscilla had a cruel manner about her. She wanted to make others feel inferior. She believed that she was God's gift to the world. Gwen was gentle, when not provoked, and far more humble.

Darcy stopped himself before his thoughts ran any further. He was being foolish. Priscilla was the beauty, while Gwen was a beast. Miss Spencer was one who was sought after in this county. Gwen was the poor girl who had attracted the frog known as Cole Spencer. Gwen's imperfections— her unladylike attitude, her sarcastic nature, her frizzy head of hair, her unimpressive looks— made her incompatible with him. He could never love such a woman, he was sure of this or at least he told himself that he was sure of this. He, James Darcy, could never fall in love with Gwendolyn Crawford.

"Doesn't this smell lovely?" Priscilla, whom he had completely forgotten about, asked as she stuck a large red rose under his nose.

Even without inhaling, he could smell the sickening stench of the flower. He despised roses, especially the smell of them. He found the smell to make him ill. Darcy didn't know why they did so, but he had grown to avoid them.

"When I am married, I want to fill my home with these! I will bathe in rosewater everyday!" she exclaimed. "Do you like it?"

Darcy forced a smile. He nodded quickly. Oh how he hated roses.

Gwen lay on her bed. She had removed the dirty clothing she had worn to do the chores that morning. She had opened a window to let the warm summer breeze into the room. She wondered how her brother was and how her parents were getting on. Gwen wished that she was with them. She wished that this whole experience was a nightmare that she would wake from at any moment.

A knock at the door caused her to bolt up. She did not say a word and she made no move to open the door.

"Miss Crawford, there is a letter for you," said the maid from the other side of the closed door. "Would you like me to slip it under the door for you?"

"Yes please. Thank you," Gwen replied as she made her way to the door. A letter appeared moments later. The handwriting as unmistakably that of her brother, Olivier. She snatched it from the floor and tore it open. The letter inside was rather short, but then her brother never was one for writing long letters. He liked getting to the point. Gwen sat down on her bed and began to read.

'Dearest sister,

I am very disappointed in mother's decision to keep you away. I know how much you wanted to visit us and I was so looking forward to seeing you again, as is Juliette. I have been trying to convince mother to lift your punishment. I can only imagine how horrible Lucinda must be treating you. She always jealous of you and Evelyn. It seemed to be going quite well until we received a letter from Lucinda, inviting the whole family for a visit at the end of the summer. I don't know what the woman has planned, but I'm sure that it's devious.

I wish that you were here. The family is doing quite well.

Forever yours,

Olivier.'

Gwen smiled. She pressed her lips against the paper. She knew that he was not her real brother, but she loved him like one. He cared for her as well. She missed him. The last time she saw him, he was getting married to the beautiful and intelligent Juliette. Gwen wished that she had been able to see him. She wished that she wasn't trapped here with the Spencer family.

She reread the letter and paused when she read the part about the invitation. She shrugged, remembering that it was Cole's birthday at the end of the summer. Lucinda was always one for extravagant parties and she invited everyone. She loved to show off her fabulous home and handsome children.

Suddenly, there was another knock at the door. Gwen once again made no movement to open the door. She didn't really want to see anyone.

"Gwen, may I come in?" the voice belonged to Marion, whom Gwen had not seen since her arrival.

"Yes."

Marion opened the door. She was dressed in a light blue gown and her blonde hair was tied up in a bun. She made her way to the bed and sat down beside Gwen.

She cleared her throat. "Gwen, is Remy in love with someone else?" she asked nervously. She wasn't even looking at Gwen.

Gwen stared at her. "What would make you think that?" she asked. She didn't know that Marion felt so strongly about Remy.

Marion sighed. "He hasn't answered any of my letters. I have written dozens of them, but I have not received a single reply. I'm worried that he has met some Italian harlot and has completely forgotten about me," she cried. Hot tears slid down her reddening cheeks. She buried her face in her hands. She leaned against Gwen's shoulder.

Gwen stroked her hair comfortingly. She had to admit that she had not heard from her supposed best friend since his departure, but she had assumed that it was because he was in Italy and there was quite a bit of distance between England and Italy. "I'm sure that he hasn't met any harlot. He loves you, Marion, and he wouldn't even dream of loving another woman." Gwen paused. "If Priscilla hasn't been able to take Remy away from you, no Italian harlot will."

Marion raised her head. She smiled at her as she wiped away her tears. "Really? Do you really think so, Gwen?" she asked.

Gwen smiled and nodded.

Marion straightened up. "Then why hasn't he answered my letters?" she asked.

"He is en route to Italy. Your letters have probably not even reached him yet," she explained.

Marion giggled. "Of course! How silly of me!" she said as she rose to her feet. "Thank you Gwen!" she exclaimed as she swung open the door and ran out of her room. She was as chipper as ever, how lucky for her.

Gwen walked over to the door and was about to close it when she noticed that Darcy was standing outside her door. He was watching the happy Marion skip down the staircase.

"What did you tell her?" he asked as he turned to look at her.

Gwen's eyes narrowed. "Just the truth," she retorted. "What do you want? Tired of Priscilla already?" she asked coldly.

Darcy sighed. "She is a little hard to keep up with and I do not enjoy hearing about parties that I don't plan on being here to attend," he explained.

"You're leaving?" her tone sounded more surprised then happy. Oddly enough that gave Darcy a bit of solace.

He nodded. "Before Cole's birthday I believe," he said. He noticed the letter in her hand. He felt the impulse to grab it and to see who it was from. He wanted so much to know her. How she thought and how she felt. He looked even closer at it, noticing the following words: "Yours forever, Olivier." Of all the words, he had to see those three. Rage swelled in his chest.

"Your lover, I presume?" he demanded pointing to the letter. "Isn't it rather cruel to lead on poor Mister Spencer if you already have a lover?" he felt foolish. He had thought, though only for an instant, that Gwen was not as cruel or as cold as some of the other women he had met. He didn't believe that she was the type of woman who would lead on a man. He couldn't help but feel led on as well.

Gwen stared at him. Her gaze and silence made him even angrier. Then she started to laugh and he saw red. He was seconds away from slapping her, so he turned and stormed away from her. She grabbed his arm. Her touch gave him goosebumps.

He tried to pulled away from her, but she had a tight grip on his wrist. He glared at her.

She smiled at him. That was the first time that she had smiled at him since France. "He's not my lover, you idiot. He's my brother."

You can only imagine how stupid he felt at that very moment. He had accused Gwen of being a harlot and he had been so angry because of it. He wanted to hurt her for being out of reach; for leading him on. Darcy felt like an idiot. A real idiot.

Gwen laughed at him. Her eyes twinkled as she giggled. He could see that they were completely brown except for a ring of green around the pupils. They were almost entrancing.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, though he couldn't believe that he had said those words once they left his lips. He was a Darcy, he never apologized for anything, even if he was in the wrong.

He was disappointed in himself for apologizing until she grinned at him. "It's fine. I've gotten used to you calling me a whore. It doesn't even phase me anymore," Gwen responded. Her tone was sarcastic, but still it stuck in his heart like a knife. Had he really called her a whore so many times that she no longer took offense to it? Was he so cruel?

Gwen let go of his wrist. Usually she would have yelled at him and stormed away, but she felt too light-hearted to be angry, even at Darcy. She held the letter to her chest.

"Do you wish that you were with him instead of here?" he asked as he looked at his feet.

Gwen smiled to herself. "Yes, I was looking forward to visiting Olivier and his wife, but there is no use in whining over it now," she answered. Darcy's heart fell a little. He wanted her to enjoy her stay with him. This was the most civilized conversation he had ever had with her and it started with Darcy accusing Gwen of being a whore. Yet, Darcy was happy with it.


	7. So Very Close, I Could Almost

**Hey guys sorry for the delay, but i have been busy and i had a hard time writing this chapter. Hope you like it.**

**-Dravas**

...

Darcy was invited into Gwen's room, where they spoke for hours about travelling. Gwen felt her hatred for the arrogant young man to dissipate as they spoke. He was not rude to her, nor was he acting like the pervert he had been portrayed to be. The visit was almost pleasant.

Throughout the following week, Darcy watched Gwen perform the tasks set out for her by Lucinda, the wicked taskmaster. Once her chores were done, they would meet in the stables, where no one would think to look for them, and talk. They discussed their lives, their dreams, and their aspirations for the future, but said nothing of their feelings. Darcy was not too surprised to learn that Gwen did not want to marry simply for money and that she wanted to fall in love. She was headstrong. She also spoke of her family with more love than he had ever seen. He loved his aunts very much, but he never spoke of them as highly as Gwen spoke of her parents and siblings. She admired them, but she also seemed to think that she owed them.

Gwen learned from Darcy that he and his father were not on the best of terms, but he loved his aunts. He did not mention his mother, but Gwen did not press him. Who was she to ask about parents when hers were dead? She did not tell him this. No one knew of her birth parents and she knew that it had to remain as such. She knew as well as any how orphans were looked upon in society. In their time together, she had learned to not only tolerate his presence, but actually relish in it. With Remy gone, she had no one to talk to, neither did Darcy so they found companionship in one another.

One summer morning, Darcy smiled as he walked down to the stables. He had challenged Gwen to a race in the hopes that they would get to know each other a little better. Darcy wanted to spent as much time out of the house and away from Priscilla as possible. He reached the stable, finding a humming Gwen standing by a pale grey horse. She was softly brushing its neck.

Darcy opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. He wasn't sure what to say or of what would be the best way to get her attention. So, he cleared his throat, causing her to jump and whirl around.

"Oh, it's only you," she said as she lay her hand over her heart. Her words stung him a little. 'It was only you' made him feel unimportant. Then she smiled at him and his heart began to slam against his ribcage. "Shall we?" she asked as she mounted the horse without any help from Darcy. Her smile grew wider.

Darcy nodded and picked the only other horse with a saddle on its back. He smirked. "I suppose that you gave me the weakest horse?"

Gwen laughed. "You accuse me of being a cheat," she remarked. She leaned in closer to him. "How very rude of you, Mr. Darcy." She was laughing at him, but in a playful way. She meant no harm, he knew that.

He mounted the horse and followed her out the door. They kept at a slow pace to begin with, but then quickened their pace when they were far enough from the manor. Gwen was in the lead, partially because Darcy wanted an excuse to stare at her, but also because she was a better rider than him, though he would never admit it.

Gwen turned off the designated path and into a meadow filled with tall green grass. Darcy could see cattails in the distance. "Alright, Mr. Darcy," Gwen said. She pointed to the cattails in the distance. "The first one there wins."

Darcy smirked. "What are the stakes?" he asked coyly.

"If I win, you have help me with my chores until the end of the summer," she replied. She flashed a falsely shy grin at him.

Darcy chuckled. "And if I win, you must…" he paused. His throat constricted and blood drained from his face. Darcy found himself sweating and it was not because of the summer heat. What did he want from her? He knew, deep down, but he refused believe it, much less say it aloud. Her. That was what he wanted, but he buried the alien feelings that had been his constant companion since meeting Miss Gwendolyn Crawford.

"You must tell Cole what you truly think of him," he finally blurted out. His request had caught her off guard, he could see it in her change of expression. His request was too much, he feared. Darcy worried that Gwen would decline and the race would be cancelled altogether. Darcy wanted to get close to her and he feared that his wish was too risky.

Gwen's defiant grin lifted the weight of worry from his shoulders. She nodded. "Then it is agreed. First one to the cattails wins," she proclaimed.

A smirk curved her lips as she kicked her heels into the horse's side, sending the beast dashing towards the cattails. Gwen laughed as she passed him.

"Cheat!" Darcy yelled after her as he urged his horse to catch up, but she was a better and lighter rider, so she kept the lead. She came to a halt, turning in her saddle to face me. a triumphant grin on her pink lips, which all of a sudden, Darcy could not take his eyes off of.

Gwen's voice broke his trance. "I'm not a cheat," she laughed. "It's only polite to let the lady win." Her green and brown eyes twinkled in the sunlight.

His heart raced. His mouth ran dry as he stared at her. She was waiting for an answer so he had to say something. "When I see one, I will let her win," Darcy chuckled.

Gwen pretended to be insulted. "Such a cruel boy," she mocked. She slowly dismounted the horse. Darcy followed suit. "So, you will be rising bright and early to help me tomorrow," she told him. "But after tomorrow, you do not have to humour me any longer."

Darcy stared at her. "But you won," he declared.

Gwen shrugged. "I wouldn't want to ruin your summer, Mr. Darcy," she explained. "Staying with the Spencers is enough of a punishment as it is." Her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh no, I didn't mean to say that!" her yes widened in horror. She was afraid that he would tell Priscilla who then would tell her mother. Lucinda would make Gwen's stay even more unbearable.

"No, no!" Darcy exclaimed. "I hate this summer already," he said calmly, trying to hide his excitement. "I would rather spend my time tending to chickens then playing suitor with Priscilla."

'I would rather spend my summer with you,' he thought but didn't dare say aloud.

She giggled. She took a hold of his hand, sending a shockwave up his arm. He suppressed the shiver. "Come with me," she whispered as she pulled him forward.

They stepped through the cattails with Gwen leading the way. Beside the tall plants was a pond with a dock protruding out onto the water. The pond was about four meters wide. Gwen continued to pull Darcy to the dock.

"I found this place once when I was hiding from Cole," she said. To his dismay, she released his hand. She bent over to pick up a stone. Gwen threw the stone across the still water. It made a satisfying plop as it hit the water, sending droplets of water into the air.

"Let's see if you can do any better?" she challenged him.

He snorted as he picked up a rock. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and launched the stone into the air. It landed on the other side of the pond.

Gwen stuck her tongue out at Darcy. "Well then." She marched onto the dock, stopped right at the edge of it. He joined her.

Darcy watched her out of the corner of his eye. Her auburn hair was tied in a twist and her pale cheeks were touched with blush from the heat. His throat constricted again and he was unable to speak. He turned away from her, heading back to the shore.

"Are you alright? You look rather pale," Gwen observed. She forced him to face her.

He could see the concern in her eyes. Her mouth was twisted with worry. His eyes couldn't move from her lips again. He was hypnotized by them. Still unable to speak, he nodded. Darcy forced himself to smile.

Gwen did not look convinced, but she smiled as well. "Good, then you would not mind terribly if I did this," she grabbed a hold of both his arms. She tried with all her might to pulled him to the end of the dock, presumably into the water. But he was stronger than she was, so he stood his ground.

She gave up after a few minutes. She panted, playfully glaring at him.

Darcy chuckled. "Oh, then you would not mind either." He took a hold of her arms and began to push her, despite all of her flailing. Once she was very close to falling in, Darcy stopped.

"Do you yield?" he asked.

Gwen shot him a defiant look. "Never!" she tried to sound angry despite her giggling.

Darcy snickered. "As you wish," he said as he let go of her arms.

Her eyes grew wide as she tumbled backward, falling into the cool pond. She resurfaced for a moment. Frantically waving her arms about.

"Darcy…I can't…" she disappeared under the surface, not being able to finish her sentence, but it was unnecessary. He scanned the water for any sign of her. Suddenly, a hand shot out of the water. He grabbed a hold of it and pulled, but instead of helping Gwen out of the water, he was tugged into the cold water.

His feet touched the bottom of the river. He felt arms wrap around his waist and he assumed that they belonged to Gwen. He smiled to himself and pushed off the sandy floor of the river. He didn't have to go far before he broke the surface of the water. Gwen's arms were no longer around him. Darcy kicked his feet, which grazed the bottom of the river. He frowned and stood up. The water reached the middle of his chest. He headed to the shore. Gwen was already there, laughing at him.

"You look like a drowned rat," she giggled as he walked out of the water.

He laughed as he tackled her, pinning her to the grass. She laughed as she tried to get away. "Did I worry you? Were you actually concerned about me?" she mocked.

Darcy stared at her. He laughed. "If I returned to the house without you, they would begin to wonder. You are not worth going to prison for, even if you are annoying," he retorted.

"Admit it, you were afraid that I was hurt. You care about me. How very out of character. Have my good looks finally softened that cold heart of yours?" she laughed, but she meant it. She wanted to know if he cared for her.

'Kiss her,' Darcy thought, but he did not move. He smirked. "What good looks?" he laughed as he rolled off of her and onto his back.

Gwen slapped his chest playfully. "Oh how very funny," she chuckled. Gwen propped herself up on her elbows. She looked down at him. He eyes were fixed on his lips. Her heart began to beat quickly and her breathing grew shallow.

'I wonder if his lips…oh stop that you silly girl,' she snapped at herself. 'You can't think that way. What would mother say? What would Lucinda do if she found out that you were trying to court Darcy? She would have your head served to her with an apple in your mouth, that's what she would do.'

Darcy turned onto his side. "May I ask you a question that has been irking me since that ball the Hunts held?" he asked.

Gwen smiled at the memory of that night. She had truly disliked him then, but she didn't know him then. Her anger and hate were a result of one little incident, for which Darcy had apologized for. "Of course," she replied.

"Who in God's name is Winston?" he tried hard to hide his jealousy. Gwen didn't seem to notice because she began to laugh.

She rolled onto her stomach. She gazed at him in amusement, debating whether or not to keep the identity a secret, but in the end she decided that she would tell him. "He's my dog," she laughed.

Darcy grinned before allowing a laugh to escape from his lips. "You are an odd woman," he chuckled.

Gwen watched him as he laughed. She had never noticed how well shaped his lips were or how his eyes reminded her of the open sky. She felt a sudden urge to lean forward, but she stunted the fantasy at that point. She knew in her gut what would happen if she continued to ponder upon Darcy's lips and eyes, and she knew that she could not allow herself to think about him in that way.

All of a sudden, a surge of courage ran through Darcy. He moved closer to Gwen. He placed a hand on her back. He half expected her to pull away and run away screaming, but she only smiled at him. His face drew closer to hers, ever closer. Neither Gwen nor Darcy could breathe.

But, thinking of the consequences, Gwen quickly got to her feet. "We should get out of these wet clothes before we catch cold," she murmured, not believing in what she said.

Darcy swallowed hard as he rose. He nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't want to have to do all of your chores by myself," he jeered.

Gwen playfully pushed him as she made her way back to the horses.

Once he had changed into dryer clothing, Darcy went looking for Gwen. He wanted to discuss the events of the day, in particular when they nearly kissed. He found her outside, sitting under the gazebo. She was wearing a flowing lavender dress.

Darcy silently walked up to her, once again startling her. "Miss Crawford, I would like to speak with you," he said, sounding a little more formal than he had wanted to.

Nodding her head, she got to her feet. "Of course, Mr. Darcy," she responded without looking at him. She couldn't meet his gaze.

"I believe that…" he began, but paused. He wasn't sure how to go about this. He wanted to kiss her. in fact that very thought had consumed his mind all day, but what if she was appalled? He could not live with himself if she were to hate him again. He wasn't even sure how he survived it the first time. "I believe that we really should," he continued, drawing closer to her again. If she didn't want him near her, she would have said so. If Gwen did not want him to touch her, she would have used that sharp tongue of hers to tell him that he was an indecent pig, yet she hadn't. Darcy took that as a sign. He was so close to her that he could smell her perfume, mixed with the smell of the pond water.

"We should?" she asked. She held her breath, waiting for the answer.

All seemed too be perfect. Priscilla was not there to steal him away and Lucinda was not there to order Gwen away. Cole wouldn't dare approach them. The coward. Then, "Yes cousin, what should you do?" the voice caused Darcy's muscles to tighten and his teeth to grind together. The voice belonged to his cousin, one William Bingley.


	8. Cruel Intentions

"Hello cousin," the young redhead said coyly as he removed his coat.

Darcy frowned. "William," he replied coldly, forcing a smile. Before he was able to say another word, William grabbed a hold of Gwen's hand and pecked it so gallantly, that Darcy had to roll his eyes.

"Dear cousin, how rude of you not to introduce me to your lovely companion," William said, flashing a charming grin to Gwen, who weakly smiled back, but she looked at him as though she was not sure what to think of him. "I am William Bingley," he said with a bow.

She curtsied politely. "Gwendolyn Crawford, but you may call me Miss Crawford," she retorted, which made Darcy smirk.

"Well aren't we a little spitfire," he said, scanning Gwen quickly. "No wonder my cousin has taken a liking to you. His mother was stubborn as well. It's a shame that she wasn't strong enough to survive his birth."

Gwen shot Darcy a sympathetic look, gripping his shoulder to comfort him. "I am so very sorry," she said softly. Gwen glared at Bingley. "You did not need to be so cold." She placed her hands on her thin hips. Her eyes were defiant.

Bingley chuckled, waving away Gwen's attempt to intimidate him. "It happened very long ago," he responded. He observed her for a few moments, taking in every detail of her face and body. This made Gwen uncomfortable. Darcy was ready to pounce on his cousin. "You were right when you wrote to me, she does look like Josephine," he said, turning to Gwen. "She was a girl at Madame Papillon's brothel who had quite a crush on my cousin here."

"I never wrote to you, William," Darcy hissed, but fell silent when he saw Gwen's mortified expression.

"Brothel?" she whispered in disgust. Her eyes grew wide.

"Oh yes. He was quite a frequent patron of Madame's. they even had a room for him," William lied with a satisfied grin. He knew that the damage was done.

"That is enough, William," Darcy growled as he pushed his cousin away from the gazebo.

Once they were out of earshot, Darcy glared at his cousin. "Must you always behave like an ass?" he demanded, trying hard to keep his voice low and as calm as possible.

Bingley smirked. "You, my dear cousin, have had everything you have ever wanted handed to you. Women have loved and doted on you since you the day you were born, but I was the awkward and forgotten cousin. My own mother spent more time caring for you than she ever did for me," he said, his tone was sharp and cold. "That's why I was sent off to aunt Caroline's estate, which incidentally is just down the road."

Darcy stared wide eyed at his cousin.

"I came here to fight you, but instead I think I will just take the heart of Miss Crawford," Bingley announced.

Rage rose in Darcy's chest. "You will do no such thing!" he snapped. He raised his hand to hit Bingley when a small voice from behind him asked, "Is everything alright?

He turned to see Gwen standing behind him with wide eyes. Her expression was concerned, but also uncertain. She was still wrestling with the information that she had just come across. She was beginning to question her developing feelings for James Darcy, but she couldn't stand brothels. She thought that they were disgusting and degrading.

Darcy was about to exploit Bingley for the fraud that he is when a loud and obnoxious voice screamed, "Gwendolyn Crawford! Go help Ann with lunch!"

With a scowl, Gwen excused herself and stalked off towards the house, leaving Darcy and his cousin alone once more.

"I give it a week before our Cinderella is in love with me," Bingley said as he began to walk back towards the house.

Darcy stepped into his path. "No," he said, "She is far too stubborn to fall for your dirty little tricks. You will not win."

Bingley chuckled. "Time will only tell, my dear cousin. Time will tell," he announced as he moved past Darcy, who whirled around to glare at him.

"You came to fight me. Leave her out of it! She is not a toy," he snapped. His hear was racing, pounding in his head. He could not let Gwen be exploited by his lecherous cousin. He could not bear to have her hurt because of him, because of the grudge his cousin held against him. "I will not fight back if you leave her alone."

Bingley looked over his shoulder at him. He rubbed his chin. "Interesting prospect. I could permanently damage that handsome face of yours so that no woman, especially Miss Crawford would never look twice at you again," he pondered aloud.

Darcy felt his throat constrict. Would Gwen leave him if he was no longer handsome? Would she be disgusted and repulsed by him only to fall into the arms of William? He shook off the thought. Gwen was a better person than that, he assured himself. She, unlike Priscilla, was not a shallow gold-digger.

Bingley shook his head. "No, this will be far more entertaining and I may steal a maidenhead in the process."

Nothing else seemed to matter. Darcy lunged forward, grabbing his cousin by the collar. "I will not _allow_ you to touch a hair on her head! She isn't some paid whore, she is a beautiful young woman with a chance to get married and be happy for the rest of her natural life, and I will not let you destroy that simply for sport or to spite me." He shook off the image of himself by her side. Darcy wanted to make her happy and he would do anything a assure that her happiness remained intact.

Bingley stared at him. He half expected this reaction, though he thought that Darcy was going to at least try to contain his emotions. And he definitely hadn't expected physical contact, but he sneered. "With you?" he asked, but Darcy did not reply. "Then we'll play for her heart," he stated, "let the game begin."

Lucinda stood at the window, watching the two cousins argue. She could not hear them, but she knew what the argument was about; Gwen. "That girl has been a thorn in my side for years now," she reminded herself.

Lucinda knew that Gwen was more beautiful, more talented, and was simply more applying to men than her own daughters. She had spent years trying to make her daughters better than her, but that didn't seem to matter now. She had a weapon. A powerful weapon that, if used, could destroy Gwen's hopes of happiness. Lucinda had never had to use this weapon because Gwen's stubborn personality and indifference drove most men away. "It's time that I break her hold on Mr. Darcy's young heart."

Priscilla opened the door and stepped into the room. "You called mother?" she asked, sounding bored. She moved over to her mother.

Lucinda nodded. "Yes, I have a story to tell you, my dear, that will ensure that you are the one that Darcy chooses to marry," she told her daughter, "and leave Gwen Crawford crying and shamed."

Priscilla smiled coldly. She didn't exactly hate Gwen, but she had stood in her way one too many times. Priscilla wanted Darcy, even more than she wanted Olivier.

"But you must promise to wait until the time is right before revealing this story. She must be shamed to the point of no recovery. Do you understand?" Lucinda demanded.

Her daughter nodded eagerly.

Lucinda grinned triumphantly. "Excellent."

"Come here, my dear," she said as she waved her child closer to her. "I am going to tell you the story of Gwendolyn's birth."


	9. The Challenge

Gwen peeled a potato in the corner of the kitchen. She hummed a pleasant tune while she hacked at the vegetable with her sharp little knife.

Ann, the chef, moved about the room checking sauces and the dinner roast. She was humming a familiar children's tune. Gwen joined in halfway through as she tossed the potato peels into an ever-growing pile.

"Miss Crawford, I'm very sorry that Mrs. Spencer forced you to help me," Ann apologized as she stirred the boiling soup.

Gwen shrugged. "It's quite alright. I don't mind," she responded with a warm and reassuring smile.

Ann nodded. Then, her head snapped up. "Young master," she said politely.

Cole walked into the busy kitchen. He nodded to Ann, but turned his attention to Gwen. "My mother can be a little hard to live with at times," he admitted, but Gwen did not respond. "I wanted to know if you would like some help?"

Ann shot Cole a look of surprise, which he did not see, but Gwen did. She understood what it meant. Gwen shook her head. "No thank you. It's nearly ready anyway," she answered.

Cole sighed, more in relief than in disappointment. "Very well," he said as he made his way to the door. Then he turned to her. "Oh, my mother asked that you also serve lunch."

Once he was gone, Gwen clenched her fists so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She ground her teeth together in rage, but she didn't say a word.

.

Darcy was called for lunch. He stepped into the garden to see that most of the Spencer family had gathered around a small wooden table that had been taken out for the afternoon lunch. Bingley was speaking to the blushing Marion about the weather and the beauty of nature. His eyes darkened at the sight of his cousin. Gwen was absent from the party and the only unoccupied seat was between Lucinda and Priscilla, to his dismay.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy," Priscilla said seductively as he took his seat beside her. She leaned in close to him. She was close enough for him to smell her floral perfume: rose perfume. Her breath uncomfortably licked his cheek, causing him to shiver in disgust, but Priscilla took it as a sign that she was steering his desire and attention towards her.

"Good afternoon, Priscilla," he replied, trying to mask his distaste. It was ineffective as she didn't take his calling her by her first name as disrespectful as he had meant it. He wanted her to leave him alone.

"Mr. Bingley, you must come to our party," Lucinda exclaimed to the surprise of everyone at the table. They had no idea what party she was talking about.

He smiled. "Of course. When is it?"

"Oh within the week," she stated, causing her husband to nearly choke on his wine. She ignored his coughing. "I will send you an invitation. It's a private party."

Cole sat quietly beside his elder brother. He kept looking at the house as if expecting something to happen. Darcy thought that he had finally lost his marbles until he saw Gwen walk out of the house with a platter of sliced bread in hand. His stomach turned when he saw her grim expression. She was unhappy, but was trying very hard to hide it.

Gwen placed the platter in the center of the table. She tuned on her toes and marched back to the house before anyone could speak to her.

"I didn't know that Gwen was you servant," Bingley commented. He flashed Darcy a look of contempt, which only made Darcy clenched his fists under the table.

Lucinda giggled. "Oh no," she said. "Gwen is the daughter of a local family. She is a bit of a wild child so her mother sent her here so that she could learn to be a proper lady."

Bingley smiled smugly at her. "I very much doubt that peeling potatoes and serving lunches will help her become a proper lady," he said. He looked up at her. "Don't you agree?"

Lucinda chuckled nervously while her husband stifled a laugh. Her face grew red and it was not from the hot summer sun. "I- I suppose not, but she treated your cousin quite unfairly."

"I'm sure that it was not without just cause. I have known my cousin for a long time," he answered, glancing at Darcy. "Besides, I have taken a liking to Miss Crawford." He cleared his throat. "I think that I may court her."

Every muscle in Darcy's body tensed up, as did Cole's. Bingley had just declared war on both of them for Gwen's heart.

Lucinda shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "My son Cole has been promised her hand. He has been courting her for over a year now," she explained.

Bingley glanced at Cole and snickered. "I would be able to steal her heart in a week," he retorted.

"William," his cousin warned. Darcy was thinking the same thing, but he wouldn't dare say it aloud.

But that did not silence him. "Yes, women are so fickle. No wonder you haven't been able to win Gwen's adoration."

Awkward silence fell upon the table as Gwen reappeared with a small cauldron filled with soup in hand. Cole's face turned red as she walked passed him. She ladled some soup into each bowl before racing back into the house. The eyes of every person sitting at the table followed her.

Bingley grinned widely. "Yes, I think that I shall have her."

.

Lucinda had already decided that the party was going to be on the coming Friday. She had already sent out the invitations and had ordered the wine. She had musicians ready to play and the staff was busy decorating the house. She invited Mr. Bingley and his aunt, despite his declaration to win Gwen's hand. She knew that his presence would make her ball even more prestigious. She had plans to keep Gwen from marrying anyone other than her son.

For once, Gwen had not been ordered to aid the servants with their work. So she spent most of her time with Darcy, though his cousin seemed to show up every time they were alone. Darcy always seemed to be about to tell her something important when his cousin appeared and would not continue once he was in their presence.

Bingley took an interest in her and spoke to her often of traveling the world and of books. Gwen enjoyed his company almost as she enjoyed Darcy's company, though Bingley had started off on the proper foot, unlike his cousin. Cole greatly disliked Bingley, which only made Gwen like him even more.

One morning, Bingley came up behind her. "Good morning, Miss Crawford," he said softly, almost seductively.

Gwen felt unfamiliar shivers run up her spine. Her rushed to her cheeks as she turned to look up at him. "I did not know that you were coming over today," she said, "but good morning to you anyway."

He lightly picked up her hand and brought it to his lips, causing Gwen to blush even more. "I would be delighted, Miss Crawford, if you would honour me with the first dance at Mrs. Spencer's ball," he announced. He attempted to hide his arrogance. He was sure that she would say yes. Cole was too much of a coward to have asked her for the first dance and Darcy was too stupid to even think of such a thing. On no, Bingley thought that he was so very clever.

Gwen's smile diminished. "Oh, well," she stammered. He assumed that it was because his request had made her emotions run wild, so much that she could not respond, but he was wrong. "No," she said at last, surprising him.

He stared at her. "What do you mean no?" he was trying to keep his rage under control. "Why not?"

"Because I have already asked her, cousin," a cool voice came from behind Bingley, who whirled around to come face to face with Darcy and his smug grin. "And she said yes."

Bingley glared at him. They exchanged heated looks but did not speak. He clenched his teeth together. "It seems that the earlier bird got the worm," he said, trying to be pleasant. He turned to Gwen. "Then, may I have the second?"

Gwen smiled brightly as she nodded. "Of course, Mr. Bingley."


	10. Secrets and Disgrace

Darcy hardly saw Gwen until the night of the ball. She was running around town, picking up ribbons for Priscilla, Marion and herself. There were no chores to be done, but she was still kept away from him. He longed to be with her, but he would just have to wait until the party.

Bingley was kept away from the house after his declaration to win Gwen's heart. Lucinda wanted to make sure that he never got the chance to make her love him. This pleased Darcy because that meant that his cousin could not do anymore damage to the growing bond between Gwen and himself. The only time Bingley had with her was when he purposely ran into her while in town. They would walk and talk, but the romantic sparks were never present. She had no interest in his love, despite his best efforts to convince her otherwise.

The ballroom was filling with people when Darcy emerged from his room. He saw Priscilla flirting with some young man whom he did not recognize. She leaned in close to him as she sipped on her sherry.

"Hello Miss Spencer," he said as he moved into her line of sight. She quickly leaned away from the young man and walked over to Darcy.

"Mr. Darcy," she said sweetly, "this is Lord Cromwell."

Darcy nodded in response. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Cromwell smiled, but gave Priscilla a confused look. He obviously was not privy to the girl's intentions. Darcy could not imagine a more awful creature.

"Mr. Darcy," Gwen said from behind him.

He turned to see her in a lavender gown with silver embroidery at the hem. Her long, curled auburn hair was pushed to one side. She smiled at him. His heart skipped a beat at the very sight of her.

"I believe you owe me the first dance," she said, glaring past Darcy at the leering Priscilla.

"Of course. Let's be off," he said as he offered his arm to her.

Priscilla stared bewildered as Gwen took his arm. They walked away from her. Gwen looked back to flash a smug grin at her. Darcy led her into the dancing crowd.

They took a spot at the end and fell into step with the others. They moved close together, then far apart, and then twirled about.

"Lovely dance," Darcy said.

Gwen giggled. "Very much so," she said. She looked away from him. "Miss Spencer doesn't seem to think so. She has been glaring at us since we left her and Cromwell."

Darcy laughed. He leaned closer to her. "She is only jealous that you are more beautiful than you are," he said the words before he really thought about them.

Gwen blushed, which was something that Darcy had rarely seen on her. For once, she was speechless. Her heart skipped, hopped, and danced in her chest. She wanted to scream, to tell him of the strange feelings that had been plaguing her since their time by the river, but she remained silent.

The song ended and as there was no sign of Bingley, the duo walked into the next room, which was less crowded. Darcy sat down on chair and Gwen took the seat beside him.

He looked about. "Well it seems as though we've escaped Priscilla," he laughed.

Gwen grinned. Her eyes scanned his face. His eyes were joyous and his cheeks were touched with a hint of red from the dancing. Gwen's eyes fell to his lips and they remained there for longer than she had wanted them. The urge to press her lips against his was growing ever stronger.

Darcy felt his throat constrict. He could hear his heart beating. It's rhythmic pumping was so loud he was shocked that no one else could hear it. He could no longer wait. Darcy slowly leaned towards her.

Suddenly, she rose to her feet. She seemed flustered. Her cheeks were burning. Darcy rose to his feet as well.

"We should return to the par…" she began but lose her words when he cupped her cheek with his hand.

Darcy inhaled her intoxicating scent. It was sweet like a bowl of fruit, but not too overpowering. Her skin was softer than anything he had ever touched before and he longed to find out if her lips were as soft as the rest of her skin. He leaned forward again, but this time he held her arm so that she could not run away.

"Whore!" Priscilla yelled as she marched up to Gwen and slapped her across the face. "Worthless girl!" she shrieked.

Darcy held Gwen to his chest as she held her stinging cheek. He glared down at Priscilla. "What is the meaning of this!" he demanded.

She ignore him. "Know your place!" the Spencer girl snapped. The scent of alcohol rolled off her, almost masking the rose perfume she was wearing. "You are nothing more than an orphan. The brat of a poor minister and his pitifully old wife."

Gwen stared at her. _How? How did she find out?_ She wondered.

Darcy looked at Priscilla, obviously confused. "Mr. Crawford isn't a minister, nor is his wife any older than your own mother," he said. "Nor are they dead."

Priscilla laughed. "She didn't tell you!" she cackled. "They are not her real parents. Her mother, Charlotte I think her name was, had the illegitimate child of a married soldier after her husband was killed."

"Shut up Priscilla!" Gwen cried. She wanted to silence Priscilla, but Darcy was holding on to her with a firm grip. Though before she would have found this comforting, at the moment she found it irritating. "Please," she pleaded.

Priscilla only smirked. "Her mother was so ashamed of herself that she took her own life," she continued. "Then your great-aunt took Gwen into her home, as she was the minister's patron and arranged to for the Crawfords to adopt her." Priscilla looked down at Gwen. "You are nothing more than gold digger."

Tears streamed down Gwen's face. Her whole body trembled and she was scared to look at Darcy's face. She didn't want to see the disgust that she expected to find there.

"She's a child of adultery!" Priscilla screamed so that all the guests could hear. "She has no rank. No money and she is a walking sin."

"She has been pretending to be a woman of the upperclass, but really she is nothing more than a dog," she paused, "perhaps even lower than a dog."

"That is enough," Bingley growled as he appeared behind Priscilla, but she ignored him. "A walking disease! You're nothing but a rat! A useless, penniless orphan who dares to pass herself off as a respectable woman of rank!"

"You are an abomination!"

Darcy's eyes grew wide, not sure how to react to this news. Gwen looked up at him with pleading eyes, but he said nothing. Not being able to bear it any longer, she tore away from him and ran. Darcy foolishly did nothing to stop her.

Bingley gripped his cousin's shoulder tightly. "You're a fool for letting her go," he breathed angrily. He glared at Priscilla. It was a dirty trick. Gwen didn't deserve to be thrown to the dogs. Even he thought that it was a little uncalled for.

Gwen pushed through the crowds that had gathered to watch them and made her way to the back of the house. She avoided the whispers that seemed to follow her and the stares that watched her every move. She ran into the garden and kept going until she reached the riverbank, where she finally collapsed.

_He said nothing_, she thought._ He didn't react. He didn't try to stop me._ She began to sob even more. _I'm a disgrace! An abomination. _Her chances of ever being happy had just been ripped from her. She wished that she had never been sent to stay with the Spencers; that she had never met James Darcy; that she had never fallen... she stopped herself. It no longer mattered how she felt because he would never Darcy would never marry her now that he knew that she was the daughter of a widow and a married soldier. She was a sin.

A hand rested on her back. "Please don't cry," a familiar male voice said.


	11. Always Darkest

**Note to readers, this chapter contains a few bits that are corny, but hey it's a fanfiction so it's whatever I imagine it to be :P**

**Also sorry it took so long, but if you saw the list of things that I had due over the past month, you would probably cry... I did. So here you go!**

* * *

Gwen glanced over her shoulder to see Richard Spencer standing behind her with a sympathetic grin on his aging face. "Please don't cry my dear girl," he said as he handed her a handkerchief. "Priscilla isn't worth your tears."

She was a little surprised to hear him say such a thing about his own daughter and he seemed to picked up on her confusion because he said, "Lucinda has taught her to be ruthless when she wants something. She has always been a spoiled little brat."

Gwen contained a giggle.

"Why do they hate me so much? What did I ever do to deserve this?" she asked quietly.

Richard sat down beside her. "Lucinda wants wealth and power and has taught Priscilla to want the same thing. Darcy is very powerful and so my wife wants Priscilla to marry him." He looked at her. "Lucinda also wants to get her hands on that fortune that Lady Catherine left for you." He looked up at the night sky. "Once upon a time she was such a cheerful girl with the most beautiful smile that I have ever seen." Mr. Spencer sighed. "I miss my wife."

He shook his head. "So I came here to apologize on behalf of my ridiculous family. They made fools of themselves and I am very sorry."

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Priscilla really out did herself this time though," Richard said. "Lucinda never should have told her your secret. It was a dirty trick."

"She really wants to marry Darcy," Gwen explained.

Richard snorted. "Yes well that is no way to gain his affection."

She wiped a tear from her cheek. "Well it doesn't matter anymore," Gwen said, "She wins and I'm ruined. I doubt even Cole will have me now."

Richard chuckled. "No, he loves you very much. He would love you even if you were a beggar in the streets," he explained. He grinned at her. "And if Darcy does not, then he isn't worth your time nor affection."

Gwen smiled, though her heart ached. She couldn't bear the thought of losing him. It would kill her if he hated her. She cared for him. She lov…

"Well put, Mr. Spencer," Bingley said, breaking Gwen's train of thought. He sat down beside her. "Are you alright, my dear?"

Gwen nodded with a small smile. Mr. Spencer got to his feet and bowed to them. "I should return to the party before my children make even bigger fools of themselves," he said as he began to walk away from them. "I am sorry Gwen. I truly am."

Bingley wrapped his arm around Gwen, but she pulled away from him. "I know that I may seem cold for asking this but is what Priscilla said true? Are you an orphan?"

Gwen shot him a look of partial disgust. She bit her lip. Gwen had kept this secret from everyone since she was ten years old. Even Remy, her closest friend, didn't know. She was ashamed of it.

Bingley's smile was warm and comforting. His arm tried to wrap around her again, but this time she allowed him to touch her. "Please, Gwen," he breathed. "Please tell me the truth." He pressed his head against hers.

Her heart jumped into her throat. He was so close, too close. Gwen widened the distance between them. He wanted to kiss her and she knew it, but she was still holding on to the belief that her first kiss would be special. She didn't want her first kiss to be with Bingley.

"It's true," she said quietly, bowing her head. The damage was already done, but at least Gwen had the chance to defend herself.

"My mother was Charlotte Lucas. She was married to William Collins. One day his patroness, Lady Catherine, came to visit. Her driver lost control of the carriage and my mother lost her husband." She inhaled slowly, holding back the tears. "My mother was a wreck. Her husband was dead and she had also just lost her best friend, Lizzie, in childbirth. So she was easy prey for an unhappily married soldier who offered her the kind of passion that her late husband was never able to giver her."

"Wickham," she spat. His name left a bad taste in her mouth.

Bingley's eyes grew wide; he realized who Gwen's father was. Wickham was his uncle, married —unhappily apparently— to the younger sister of Jane, his mother. The family had branded the man as a good for nothing ass, but Bingley wasn't aware that he had had an affair, and with a friend of the family, no less. Bingley had never met Charlotte Lucas, but he knew that the Lucas family had close ties with his own.

Gwen shook her head. "He just wanted money from Catherine. He didn't care about my mother or his own wife for that matter." Her tone of voice was cold. "She became pregnant and I was born. When the soldier's wife found out, she slapped my mother and called her an old hag, but didn't divorce her worthless husband."

"My mother was so overcome by shame that she stopped eating and eventually withered away. Lady Catherine found me a family and even left me a dowry worth a few thousand pounds as compensation for accidentally killing Collins and starting this whole mess."

A tear slid down her cheek and Bingley leaned forward to kiss it away. He lifted her chin. "I don't care if you're an orphan, Gwen. I love you just as you are," Bingley whispered as he leaned forward. His breath tickled her cheek, sending shivers down her spine.

Her mind began to scream. She liked him, but she didn't love him. Bingley was a fine gentlemen and he had come to check on her, while all Darcy had not. Her mind reeled. He was too close.

His lips barely brushed hers when he was torn away from her.

"Bastard!" Darcy snarled as he gripped Bingley by his collar. "Stay away from her!"

"Darcy!" Gwen jumped to her feet. She stared at his face. The expression made her heart ache. "Leave him alone!" she snapped.

Darcy whirled around to glare at her. "Quiet you heartless little harlot!" he snarled.

His glare made every hair on her body stand on end. Her heart sank to her feet and a new wave of tears slid down her face.

Darcy tried to ignore her tears though they made his stomach knot. He turned his anger on his cousin again. "You son of a whore! I told you to stay away from Gwen!"

Bingley frowned. "Well I assumed that you didn't care for her. You wouldn't even look at her," he stated, causing a lump to form in Gwen's throat. "While she was crying, where were you? I came to comfort her!"

"Now go back to brothel."

Darcy punched his cousin in the stomach. "You bastard! I care for her more than you ever will!" he growled.

A wave of joy washed over her, but it was immediately consumed by a tidal wave of sadness. He didn't care for her anymore. "Quiet!" Gwen screamed. "Darcy leave him alone!"

Darcy stared at her in amazement. His heart felt like it was being torn in half. The expression on Gwen's face made him want to cry. The look was so crestfallen that a lump arose in his throat and his chest seemed to constrict.

He let go of Bingley. "I was right, you are whore," Darcy hissed before he turned and walked away. His head ached; his heart ached, and he wanted to scream until he was mute. He had cared for Gwen and yet she was nothing more than a well disguised harlot. Darcy hated himself for ever falling for her tricks.

Darcy turned his back to them. He ground his teeth together to keep him from screaming.

Gwen watched as Darcy stalked off. Half of her wanted to chase after him, while the other half reminded her that he had called her a whore. She clenched her jaw together and watched him leave.

::

Gwen helped Bingley to his feet. "Are you alright?" she asked, her eyes wandered towards Darcy again.

He nodded. "Yes I'm fine," he said. Bingley cupped her cheek with his hand. "Now where were we?" he asked as he leaned forward, but Gwen moved away from him.

She shook her head. "No," she murmured, "I can't." She stepped away from him. "I don't love you, William."

He stared at her. "Why not?" he demanded, though he had expected as much from her.

She hesitated. "Because I love James and though he may hate me now, I would never forgive myself if I were to kiss you now," she explained. "I'm so sorry."

He watched as Gwen raced back towards the house. He couldn't help but grin. "What an interesting woman," Bingley pondered aloud.

::

Priscilla saw Darcy enter the house. He marched up to his room and she followed him. He was angry and fragile, just ripe for Priscilla to sway his feelings. She would comfort him, in any way he wanted.

Darcy walked into his room, slamming the door behind him. He punched the bedpost, clenching his teeth against the pain. His heart felt like it had been torn out of his chest. The very thought of Gwen, of her kissing Bingley, caused his chest to tighten. The urge to cry washed over him, but he fought it down. He was a Darcy; they did not cry.

The door opened behind him. Priscilla slipped into his room, closing the door behind her. She slithered over to him, snaking her hands around his waist. He didn't react to her touch.

"She isn't worth the effort, my love," she whispered huskily. "Especially not when I don't require any effort." She unwrapped her arms from around his waist and moved into his line of sight. Priscilla cupped his face in her hands, but he scowled and pulled away from her as if she were the bubonic plague itself.

She ignored the reaction. "I love you, James," she exclaimed.

His eyes widened in surprise.

"I have loved you since I first met you!"

Darcy looked hard at her. He drank in every detail of her face and form. Darcy walked up to her and took her face in his hands. The pain he felt constricted in his chest, but he leaned forward and kissed Priscilla.

Gwen didn't make a sound as she watched the man she loved kiss the bane of her existence. The little fragments of her heart that remained shattered. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she bit her fist. Gwen turned and raced back to her room. Once she was safely inside, she buried her face in her pillow and screamed. Everything she had been bottling up over the past few weeks simply exploded in wave of tears and screeches.


	12. Still Pretty Dark

The smell of roses reached Darcy's nose and he nearly gagged. He broke the embrace and looked down. Part of him was shocked to see a pair of impatient grey eyes staring back at him. 'Gwen's eyes are hazel,' he told himself as he stared at Priscilla. Then he remembered Gwen and his despicable cousin. A lump grew in Darcy's throat and his eyes stung. He pushed Priscilla away, to her surprise.

"Go," he snarled. His tone was venomous. He turned his back to her.

Priscilla's jaw dropped. "I beg your pardon!" she exclaimed. "I told you that I love you and yet you push me away! That stupid orphan could never love you! She isn't worth your love."

He whirled around to face her. His face was twisted in anger so much so that it frightened Priscilla. "Get out now!" he snapped as he clenched his fists. He would not hit her, he knew this, but she did not. Priscilla pouted and cried a few crocodile tears.

'His pity is better than nothing,' she told herself. "Please, James," she pleaded as she pressed her hands against his chest. "Please don't throw me away like one of your whores." When he didn't respond, she said, "I can help the pain go away. I can make you forget her." her tone was husky as her hands ran down his torso, but he grabbed her hands just before they went below the belt.

He squeezed her wrists. "No," he snapped. "Get out!"

Priscilla's nostrils flared. She stomped her foot before turning and storming out of his room. 'Stupid man! Most men would be thrilled to have me, but not that bastard,' she thought viciously. 'I will have him and his extensive fortune if I have to ruin little miss orphan beyond repair'_._ She smirked to herself as she returned to the still active party and the very willing Lord Cromwell.

Darcy slammed his fist against the wall. 'What have I done?' The image of Gwen's crying face ran through his mind and his heart felt like someone was stabbing it with an icy blade. He had betrayed her, the only girl he had ever truly cared for. He called her a whore and made her cry. God he was such a fool.

Without a second thought, he raced out of his room and began to search for Gwen.

::

Gwen felt numb. Her vision was blurred, her hearing was muffled, and there was a vague taste of salt in her mouth. She had just seen the man she loved kissing and caressing the woman she hated most in the world. 'They're probably sleeping together,' she thought. She imagined that was how Heathcliff felt when Cathy married Edgar. Her screaming and tears had done little to make her feel better, now she just wanted to be left alone.

She barely heard the knock on the door or a male voice call her name. She didn't get up to answer the door nor did she reply.

The knocking became more persistent, but still she remained as still as a statue. She didn't care who was at the door. She just wanted to be alone with her thoughts for a while. Perhaps forever. She knew that she was being a little melodramatic, but she loved Darcy very much and she had never felt pain such as this before. Gwen had no idea how to react to this kind of situation.

Someone called her name, but she didn't move. 'Leave me alone,' she tried to project to the person on the other side of her door. 'Please just go away.'

:::

Darcy knocked on Gwen's door. She was no longer in the garden and she had not returned to the party so he assumed that she must have gone to bed. "Gwen," he called as he knocked again. "Gwen are you there?" There was no reply so he began to panic. "Please open the door!" His voice was pleading. His heart was racing and salty beads of sweat slid down the side of his face. He needed to apologize to her. He needed to explain. He needed to tell her how much of a fool he was. He needed to tell her how much he truly loved her.


	13. Author's Note

Hello my freaky darlings :)

I was just letting those of you who care that I have not abandoned this story, but the next chapter probably won't be up for awhile. Between my university studies and my unbelievable work schedule, i have almost no time to write. So, this story is on hold for the moment. I'll try to get a chapter up by november when my midterms have ended and I can breathe again.

Cheers,

Dravas


	14. Lies and Tricks

HAHA I lied! Okay no I felt bad for not uploading for such a long time, but the next chapter IS only coming in November. Mwahahaha

=^.^=

Darcy leaned against the door and slid to the floor. He buried his face in his hands and stifled the tears that were threatening to roll down his face. His heart felt like it was being torn apart by a pack of dogs. He wished that he had told Gwen that he loved her. Oh he really did love her.

There was a noise from above him; something that resembled a disapproving grunt. "Dear God James, how could a single woman turn you into such a snivelling child," a condescending voice said from above him. "If your father could see you now, he's wallop you."

Darcy did not respond. He didn't have the energy nor the will to fight his cousin, despite the fact that he had kissed the woman he loves and caused this whole mess. Darcy knew that he should have followed Gwen; he should have comforted her. If he had, she would not have kissed him and he would not have called her a whore. He would not have embraced Priscilla.

William sighed as he took a seat right beside his cousin. "You know she said no to me," he said without looking at his cousin. A smile curled his lips. "She wouldn't kiss me because of you."

Darcy said nothing as he rose to his feet. He didn't want to hear anymore. His anger rose as he glared down at him. He hated his cousin. Darcy walked wearily back to his empty room and fell onto the bed. He wasn't sure if his cousin was lying or not, but he didn't trust William as far as he could throw him. He lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling until exhaustion and feverish nightmares took a hold of him. He was plagued with thoughts of Gwen and Priscilla and William. His heart ached as he slept. He saw Priscilla and William laughing at him as Gwen was being dragged away from him, tied to the back of a horse. Not matter what he did, he couldn't wake from his nightmare.

~.~

Priscilla woke up early the next day. She left Lord Cromwell asleep in her bed, though she knew that she would have to sneak him out before her mother awoke. She slithered down the hall in her nearly transparent white nightgown to Darcy's room. Without knocking, she slipped into the room and saw Darcy asleep on his bed, still in his clothes from last night. She smirked as she hovered over him. Leaning forward she pressed her lips against his.

His eyes shot open and he pushed her away as he sat up. "What are you doing?" he snarled viciously. His features were warped by his rage.

Priscilla felt ripples of fear run up her spine. "I thought you might be in a better mood today and perhaps we could continue where we left off last night," she said seductively as she moved closer her him, swaying her hips provocatively.

Darcy wasn't interested. He leapt to his feet. "Get out Priscilla or help me God I will hurt you," he threatened and Priscilla couldn't help but yelp. She raced across the room, fake tears streaming down her face.

"I love you so much! Why are you treating me this way!" she exclaimed as she rushed out of the door, closing it behind her. Then she waited for Darcy to come after her. She waited and waited, but he never reopened the door. Priscilla stomped her foot childishly and pouted. She wiped away her tears. "Men!" she hissed as she rolled her eyes.

She sighed as she turned around to walk back to her room, but instead came face to face with a wide-eyed Gwen. Priscilla, never missing an opportunity to put Gwen down, smirked and raised a finger to her lips. "Shh, James and I were up _very_ late last night. He's still asleep," she snickered as she moved passed Gwen, who once again felt like her heart was being torn apart.

She was going to confront Darcy and confess her love to him. She was going to tell him how much she wished that they could be together, but she no longer had any desire to do any of that. Gwen wanted to get as far away from Darcy as she possibly could. Returning to her room, Gwen quickly changed her clothes and walked out into the garden. She began to walk and walk until she came to the pond, but she was not alone.


	15. Unwanted Proposal

**Hello my freaky darlings :) Okay since I have no winter break due to excess exams and my crappy work schedule, I shan't be posting for a good month and a half. Also I know that this chapter isn't fantastic. Actually I don't really like it, but it needed to be written. Anyway, enjoy :)**

**=^.^=**

Cole, his hair as greasy as ever, sat on the dock, staring out at the still water. Upon hearing her approach, he turned. His eyes grew wide and his heart slammed against his ribcage with enough force to break through his bones.

Gwen's shattered heart felt nothing when she saw him. The usual sense of dread or uneasiness when she was in his presence was absent. She didn't care.

Cole scrambled to his feet and walked to meet her. He noticed the puffiness and redness of her eyes and knew immediately that she had been crying. Cole reached out to wipe away a tear, but hesitated as he was fully aware that Gwen was repulsed by him. When she did not move away, he gently cupped her cheek with his hand.

"Did my sister do this?" he asked in a quiet voice. "She's always teasing you. Always making you cry." His heart sank a little at the thought of her tears, but he forced himself to smile. "Summer is almost over, so you'll be returning home. After my birthday you'll be free of this place. Assuming of course my mother even allows me to have a party after last night's fiasco. Priscilla really did make a mess this time."

Gwen forced herself to smile. "I'm so very sorry, Cole," she said softly.

He shrugged. "It's not your fault," he said as he moved closer to her. "I should be the one to apologize. I should have been there to protect you. I should have kept my sister in line." Suddenly he pulled her into a tight hug. Gwen didn't move away nor did she hug him back.

Cole broke away from her and took a few steps back. His expression was serious. "I want to be there to save you from my sister. I want to protect you from the cruel world forever," he said as he pulled a golden ring from his coat pocket. "Gwendolyn Crawford. Will you marry me so that I can have and protect you for the rest of your life?" He fell to one kneww

Her eyes widened. Her breathing stopped, as did her heart. Gwen wanted to cry. Her first wedding proposal and it was coming from Cole Spencer, whose sister was the bane of her existence. She looked at him with sad eyes. Darcy was sleeping at the moment after his wild night with Priscilla. Once she regained her composure, she inhaled slowly.

"Cole," she began, but couldn't bring herself to say the words. Gwen nodded as she closed her eyes and tried hard not to cry again. Cole immediately wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head.

~.~

"Oh James," Bingley breathed as he looked away from the scene. "What have you done now." He pulled on the reins, turning his horse back to the Spencer manor and then commanded it to move faster. He had to tell his idiotic cousin to stop acting like such a bloody Darcy before the woman he loves marries someone else. He ground his teeth together.

Bingley marched up to his cousin's room and opened the door. He grabbed the jug of water that the maid had left by the for Darcy as he walked up to his cousin's bed. in one swift motion, he poured the contents of the jug onto the bed.

Darcy let out an angered yell as he threw off his soaking blankets and glared at Bingley. "What is wrong with you?" he snarled as he slid out of bed. "Why would you do this!"

Bingley glared back at him. "Because while we had our backs turned, a greasy little wolf has his claws on our wounded little lamb," he said.

Darcy cocked his head in confusion. "What on earth are you babbling on about?"

Bingley sighed. "You master Spencer has asked for Gwen's hand in marriage."

Darcy's heart fell to his feet and shattered on impact. "What did she say?"

"She said yes," Bingley said quietly. "What did you do to her, Darcy?" he spat.

His cousin began to pace. His mind swirling with angry thoughts and cruel intentions. He ground his teeth together and clenched his fists tightly. Rage swelled in his chest. "Get out!" Darcy shouted.

Bingley remained rooted to his spot. "What are you going to do about this, cousin? You love her. More than you have ever loved a woman. You can't lose her."

Darcy sneered as he pushed his cousin towards the door. "Get out, Bingley. Before I lose my temper," he warned.

His cousin shook his head. "You are a fool if you let her go. A damn fool."

Once he was out of the room, Darcy slammed his fist into the wall, causing his fist to pass through it. Then he settled by his desk and began to write:

'_Dear Father,_

_As the end of the summer is drawing closer, I wish to return to school immediately. I find this place too distracting and cannot concentrate on catching up on my studies. As you are so very concerned with my education, I do hope that you will send me back to France._

_James Darcy_.'


	16. Letters

**Hello to all my readers! Here is the latest chapter, as promised. This story is nearly over and there are so many lives to fix and to ruin. Will Gwen marry Cole? Will Darcy crash the wedding, a heroic and cliche deed, and proclaim his everlasting love to her? Will Priscilla be chucked off the side of a cliff?**

**Okay that last one is highly improbable...or is it? Anyway, here you go. Hope you enjoy it!**

=^.^=

Gwen put her pen to paper and began to write, keeping back her tears with each word:

_'Dearest Evelyn,_

_Over the course of this summer I have come to discover something quite shocking, something that I believed would never happen; I fell in love. Not only did I fall in love, I fell in love with James Darcy. Yes, I do mean that seemingly dreadful young men we met at the Spencer's ball at the start of summer. Before you sent me off to Bedlam, you must understand that over the few weeks I have spent here, he has been a caring friend and a pleasure to be around. I even thought that he reciprocated my feelings, but perhaps I am mistaken as he did spend a night with that disgusting harlot, Priscilla. Excuse my language, Eve, but we both know it to be true. If he loved me he would not have done so. Though it is of little importance now. He left rather abruptly yesterday after receiving a letter from his father, apparently stating that his aunt was very ill and that he needed to return home. Something tells me that is a lie, though I cannot explain why I believe this. Though he may never love me as more than a good friend, I love him with all my heart._

_This is not the end of my bad news, dearest sister. I have made a mess of things. While in a distraught state, I agreed to marry Cole Spencer. Lucinda has already decided to hole the wedding next summer at their estate. All I have wanted to do since agreeing to this is to go up to Cole, slap him, and tell him exactly what I think of him. Though that would not be very proper of me. I have really dug myself into a hole that I fear I shall never escape from._

_Oh how I wish you or Olivier were here with me; to tell me that everything was going to be fine and to keep me from crying myself to sleep at night. I pray that we shall see each other soon. I miss you, Eve._

_Forever yours,_

_Gwen.'_

She made sure that this letter was never touched or came into view of any of the Spencer servants. Gwen handed it to the post worker herself and watched as he rode away from the manor. The last thing she needed was for Priscilla to find the letter. She didn't want the little tart to laugh at her and her pain, as Gwen was sure Priscilla would do if she ever read the letter.

As soon as the postman was gone, Gwen returned to her room. Waiting outside her door was Marion Spencer with a nervous look on her face. She paced to and fro with a sheet of paper clutched tightly in her hands. When she heard Gwen coming, she looked up with wide eyes.

Marion looked away quickly. "Hello, Gwen," she said nervously.

Gwen drew closer. "Hello, Marion," she replied. Her eyes flicked from the paper to Marion's face. The Spencer girl seemed to notice, because she held out the paper for Gwen to take.

"Priscilla snuck into your room and took this from your nightstand while you were out," she explained in a quiet voice. "I haven't read it. I tried to stop Priscilla, but she never listens to me."

Gwen barely heard her as she began to read, not aloud of course:

_'Dear Miss Crawford,_

_I would like to congratulate you on your engagement to Mister Spencer, though I am sorry that I will not be able to attend neither your engagement party nor your wedding, which I assume will be within the next few weeks. Both Mister Spencer and his mother seem eager to marry you two. As I am sure you have already been informed, my dearest aunt is quite ill and father would like me to return home in case a funeral must be planned. I wish you all the best in your future endeavours and in your marriage. You picked a good man whom I am sure will take great care of you._

_Sincerely,_

_James Darcy.'_

Gwen felt her heart constrict, but kept herself from crying. "Thank you, Marion," she whispered as she walked past the girl and walked into her room, shutting the door behind her. Hot tears slid down her face, but she bit her hand to keep herself from screaming. Darcy knew how much she hated Cole and that he would never be able to make her happy. She could barely tolerate him. Darcy knew this, yet his letter showed that he didn't care. A wave of confusion washed over her. He said that he cared for her. In fact, he yelled it at Bingley right after punching him in the stomach. Didn't that mean something? She wasn't sure anymore.


End file.
